Guess what I found on the lawn yesterday a violet, it must have hopped over the church wall and seeded itself. The lawn is in fact the remnants of an old field, so it also has bluebells as well as Hawkweed.
Well today with the early sun shining brightly through the window I write about an old love. No not any romantic recollections but the early wild flowers of spring. I have an unconscious habit of waiting on arrival of spring, not for the common daffodil but the little violet. Most people name them as dog violets, but in my book Margery Blamey, has two pages of these little gems.
Perhaps Heartsease will tempt you, or dwarf pansy, Marsh violet or the yellow wood violet. There they all are lurking on marshes, mountains and woods, their little genes adapting to the world they find themselves in.
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| Margery Blamey |
Turning to Grigson and he quotes Shakespeare 'the black or purple violets or March Violets of the Garden'. He also mentions the smell of the sweet violet, scent suggesting sex and mentions once more 'The Hunt of the Unicorn tapestry, somewhere in America I believe. I will quote at the end how this tapestry is interpreted and it will introduce to the stories that flowers can tell.
But first, technical joy. My Iphone is starting to reveal its wonders to me. Firstly, after consultation with my son, that I owned an android?? I managed to put Audible on it and can now wander around and listen to stories. It also seems a better camera than my old one, but I have not learnt how to transfer photos from it to my computer, only that I need to use a USB cable - whole drawerful somewhere!
Yesterday a table top magnifying glass arrived, to help with sewing and my knitting so old age here I come well kitted out........... There was a marvellous short video of Sheila Hancock discussing how being alone through this crisis had affected her - madness??
'The captured Unicorn lies within a fence, tethered as a symbol of consummation, to the pomegranate tree of fertility. round the white Unicorn row various plants of sex; Bistort, Lords and Ladies, Early Purple Orcis, Bluebells and Viola Odorata.'
Profile of Pascal Soriot - CEO of AstraZeneca this morning
Good morning Thelma. Another gentle yet thought-provoking post. I must admit that I never looked out for wild spring pansies before but from now on I will.
ReplyDeleteThe desktop magnifier may be an essential aid in old age but you also ought to consider ordering a zimmer frame with wheels, tartan carpet slippers with velcro fasteners and a catering size jar of Horlicks. Then you really will be ready.
Good morning YP, or is it Neil or Niall? Getting older makes memory loss a reality but with the help of Google I easily regain the word. As for Zimmer frames, actually have one from a few years back when I fractured my ankle. It lurks in the garage and I think I will hang on to it;)
DeleteCan I say one thing about 'Up North', you won't find many wild flowers on those moors, a blanket of heather obscures everything, but direct those boots and Clint towards the woods and pasture land and you will find something.
I read somewhere the other day that a wood or sweet violet is scented, a dog violet not, so that's how they're differentiated. I haven't got around to doing more reading to verify this yet :)
ReplyDeleteYes that is so, poor old dog related propaganda I think. Which is funny when you think about it because dogs do smell! tough not as sweet as a violet.
DeleteI once was walking to a swamp and my breath was taken away by a huge patch of white violets. I just had the overwhelming desire to throw myself face first into them. They were so lovely. I'd seen the yellow. I'd seen the blue, I'd seen the deep deep purple, but never the white (at least not that I remembered.
ReplyDelete"My" patch of violets was in someone's back yard, but I made up my mind that if I ever saw them growing while, I was scooping up a handful. (I always carried a shovel in the back of my work truck. I would scoop up blue wildflowers of every variety. I was trying to put together a garden called "Wild Blue Yonder")
I never saw a patch of white violets in my wanderings. Long story short, we bought a house in town some years later, and the first spring we were there, the back yard was covered in white violets!
Lovely tale Debby, I'm glad you found some white violets in the end. We are not allowed to remove wild flowers from the countryside, which is probably quite right as fewer and fewer remain.
DeleteI watch for the violets too Thelma, especially the sweet violets with their glorious wild smell. I love the unicorn picture too.
ReplyDeleteI often go back to the Unicorn Pat, a creature of myth of course, but wild violets are a treasure to find, so tiny
DeleteLovely Moss. I binge read your blogs periodically & love your points of interest, your special gentleness & your mighty brain! Good luck with your life change, just another in a long list of those already weathered. Love Carol x
ReplyDeleteThank you Carol for your warm words, you must be a TMAer I think, my Moss name is hardly used these days. And yes it has been a heavy life change to come to terms with but I can look back at life with Paul and remember only happy times. It is the sadness that comes next which is hard to move away from. xxx
ReplyDeletep.s. I take issue with 'mighty brain' it loses hundreds of cells every day!