Florets from the saucer-sized elder flower. Forage now for elderflower cordial, or leave for elderberry wine later.
Photograph: Yon Marsh Natural History/Alamy
The sky is a speedwell blue as I walk along the towpath of the Wheelock
canal, which runs parallel to the river Weaver. Bottle-green and crimson
narrowboats decorated with pots of geraniums and horseshoes pootle by. There are
dandelions bold as brass in the grass. Cow parsley, or Queen Anne’s Lace, frills
the bank. Peacock butterflies alight on a purple buddleia growing out of a stone
wall flecked with burnt-orange and pale-grey lichen, showing their
eye-spots.
I pass under a bridge and hear the rush of water from the lock; out the other
side, an explosion of swallows alternating royal-blue backs and scarlet throats
as they skim the water for insects. There is a female mallard, five balls of
golden-brown fluff paddling furiously to keep up with her.
A bolt of turquoise-amber. I am always surprised how small the kingfisher is,
but what an impression it makes, a jewel of a bird. Greek mythology tells that
if a dead kingfisher is hung by twine it acts as a weather cock, turning its
beak in the direction of the wind. There is little wind today, just a breeze
wafting lines of washing in the yards of the cottages backing onto the
canal.
Porches on the Towpath: bike trail right out the door!
A white horse grazes in a field of buttercups; further on, cows with treacle
eyes chew grass, pausing to gawp at families in the nearby beer garden, pale
flanks rising and falling, ears and tails twitching, the occasional soft fall of
muck and moo.
There are cyclists, joggers, dog walkers and a gang of small boys on
scooters. “Watch out for the stingers!” one cries, as they whizz past. A patch
of nettles flare like green flames. Dog roses, pink as bubble-gum with
sunshine-yellow stamens, wander wantonly over the hawthorn hedge, scrambling
into trees.
Then I see the saucer-sized, creamy-white elderflowers, the essence of
summer. Celtic lore has it that fairies will appear to those who stand under an
elder tree on Midsummer’s Eve.
I think about foraging – canal pathways can be excellent places to look for
wild food. Yet I leave the flowers; there will be berries for wine, come autumn
time.
I would not hesitate a moment to sculpt this fine material and bring it to
the opulence it naturally bears inside. This shape, like all sculptures, exists
within the block itself prior to it having been carved, chiseled, and
illuminated by knowing hands which seek to shed the darkness that shrouds lights
in needs of attention.
How many thousands of lights that have gone undiscovered…and yet again, the
gems that have had the opportunity to be known. Such as Giotto di Bondone, but a
boy drawing pictures of the sheep he was shepherding when found by the
Florentine painter Cimabue. Henceforth, his life was never the same for with the
guidance from someone understanding, he managed to find not only the fruit of
his talent, but also a name for himself in history.
Henceforth, there have things both lost and gained in this game of chance but
had it not been for this possibility of a negative, these grand positives would
have never come about. Sure, it may bring forth the question of fairness…but is
fairness really a first and foremost concern given the other qualities that may
be lost with it? That being greatness, of course.
A flower, totally unfair, with beauty like no other. Yet she understands
these grave tragedies and majestic occurrences of life.
Of course, a dramatic reading of flowers and how they influence us is always
fun, it keeps us aware of why they are so purposeful in our lives, for the next
time you may be interested in using our online wholesale flower seller shop,
with deliveries across the US nation, and including Canada.
Tidy this You’ve held back the secateurs all winter in the interests of
wildlife, but now that those once frost-rimed seedheads are mushy, it’s time to
clear up. You don’t have to cart it away: leave plant material on the soil where
it drops for an instant, no-labour mulch.
Visit this Fed up with your usual weekend haunts? Seek inspiration from the
National Gardens Scheme. Go to ngs.org.uk, plug in your postcode and the
distance you’re prepared to travel, and up pops a list of gardens of all types
and sizes open to the public.
Plant this If your lavender is looking woody and sparse, it’s time to invest
in some new plants. This collection of 15 plug plants features five ‘Little
Lady’, a compact 35cm x 35cm English lavender with pale blue flowers; five ‘Kew
Red’, a French lavender with cherry red flowers topped with pink ‘ears’; and
five French lavender ‘Papillon’, with lilac purple bracts. Both French lavenders
have a height and spread of 60cm. To order the collection for £21.97 (all orders
include free UK mainland p&p), call 0330 333 6856, quoting ref GU295, or go
to our readers’ offers page. Dispatch March-April 2015.
fter nature’s winter palette of grey and
brown, I crave the first signs of life, colour, anything that gives me a hint
spring is on its way. The tiny flowers of the sweet violet (Viola
odorata), one of the earliest of our native plants to bloom, do just that.
They’re not showy blooms; you’ll have to be sharp-eyed to spot them, hunkered
down among the leaf litter of a deciduous woodland or tucked away at the base of
a stout ancient hedge. Getting a whiff of their sweet perfume is trickier,
requiring crouching down on all fours. Their diminutive size and delicacy belies
the fact that these brave blooms appear when our weather is at its most fickle,
from late winter through to May (we’re more likely to experience snow at Easter
than at Christmas, according to the Met Office).
Sweet violets are steeped in history and folklore, prized for their fragrance
and medicinal uses. Lauded by the ancient Greeks and adored by Napoleon and the
Empress Joséphine, their popularity, particularly as a cut flower, reached a
height in Victorian and Edwardian times. Dorset, Devon and Cornwall were centres
of sweet violet growing and production peaked in the 1930s. You can still see
the remains of walled flower fields, known as quillets, on the western tip of
Cornwall, where violets were cultivated to send to Covent Garden market. In
France, the quest for new varieties with strong perfume, long stems and large
flowers led to a craze in plant breeding.
Catching a glimpse of them in the wild is rarer today due to habitat loss.
Grow them alongside snowdrops, wood anemones, primroses and lily of the valley
to create a piece of spring woodland of your own. And, if you fancy something
that packs more punch, or like to grow cut flowers for your home (the best and
easiest way to appreciate their perfume), there are a host of stunning
cultivars, with larger flowers held on longer stems in a variety of colours.
How to grow violets
Recreate the conditions they love in the wild. They need winter and spring
sunshine but summer shade, so the ideal spots are under deciduous trees and
shrubs. They used to be grown commercially in orchards, providing fruit growers
with a spring crop of blooms to sell before the autumn harvest of apples and
pears. As long as the ground doesn’t dry out, grow among herbaceous perennials,
since any summer planting will provide sufficient shade.
Sweet violets thrive in moist but well-drained soils. Incorporate plenty of
leaf mould into your soil, and where drainage is a problem add a little grit to
the planting hole. A sprinkling of mycorrhizal fungi on the roots can help them
settle in. As they become established, they’ll form clumps, providing useful
ground cover with their pretty heart-shaped leaves.
They spread, using runners, in the same way as strawberries. They can be
propagated easily from these, as they’ll form roots where they come into contact
with the soil. Remove these runners in spring, as they divert energy from
blooming. Deadheading prolongs the flowering season as long as possible.
Violets will self-sow, but growing your own from seed can be tricky as the
seed needs to be fresh. Specialist growers gather seed in the summer and send it
out immediately. Sow these seeds into trays filled with a free-draining seed
compost as soon as you receive them. A spell of cold weather is needed to break
the dormancy, so leave the trays in a cool greenhouse or cold frame over winter.
Seedlings should start to emerge in February or March.
What to grow: heritage violets
Heritage variety ‘The Czar’. Photograph: Alamy
‘The Czar’ In his 1893 book Flowers Of The
French Riviera, the French botanist Henry de Vilmorin noted that this large dark
violet was in great demand at flower markets, where violets were supplied “in
ready-made bunches… collared with fresh green leaves”. ‘Princess of Wales’ Introduced by French
violet grower Armand Millet at the end of the 19th century. Particularly popular
as a cut flower due to its large violet-blue flowers and strong
fragrance. ‘Luxonne’ Another French heritage variety
and popular cut flower with long stemmed violet-blue flowers and leaves. Good
for ground cover. ‘Lianne’ Classic deep purple blooms that
are strongly perfumed. First raised in France at the turn of the 20th century to
supply florists. ‘Perle Rose’ Unusual pink-red flowers that
are produced later than other cultivars, in March and April. What to grow: new violets ‘Diana Groves’ Established from a seedling
at Groves Nurseries, this was a gold-medal-winner at the International Violet
Congress in 2004. Striking claret petals with pretty white markings. ‘Annie’ Another award-winning violet from
Groves – smaller than some varieties but abundant with flowers in a delightful
deep pink. ‘Santa’s Beard’ A stunning white cultivar
with a delicate blush of faint purple and attractive veining.
Where to buy
For the true species of V. odorata and its white version, try
nurseries that specialise in wild flowers, such as Herefordshire-based PlantWild.
Groves Nurseries, who hold National Collection status for sweet violets, keep
many heritage varieties alive and breed new violets. Also try Devon Violet
Nursery and Plants For Shade
