I think some nostalgia might be in order.
At Easter I used to be sent (and not only as a child!) to collect at least half a pan full of gorse flowers, so my mother could dye the hard boiled eggs yellow. On Easter Day we then "jarped" them by bashing their ends together. The winner was the last one with an unsmashed end on their egg.
"When gorse stops flowering, kissing stops" but you'd be hard put to find many of the yellow flowers out now, even if you dared pick them!