It's that time of year when little patches of purple are emerging everywhere, as dainty violets are starting to flower on grassy banks and verges, as well as in gardens and woodlands. Gently part the leaf litter and look in the dark and secluded places under shrubs and trees and you will find them bringing splashes of colour to the dullest of areas.
One of the loveliest varieties must be the sweet smelling "garden" or "common" violet Viola odorata, which legend says will steal your sense of smell and which was a favourite of the ancient Greeks and Romans, appearing in a number of their legends. The violet was also favoured by Napoleon Bonaparte, who (following his exile to Elba) announced that he would "return with the violets" which bloomed in the Spring. The flower became a symbol of his supporters and was used to convey secret messages of support for "Corporal Violet", as Bonaparte became known.
This engraving "Violettes du 20 mars 1815" contains the hidden profiles of Napoleon (under uppermost leaf on the right), his wife (on left hand side, facing her husband) and their son (adjacent to central stems and lower violets, right hand side).
In addition to their symbolic uses, violet flowers have long been used in the kitchen to add flavour to meats and liqueurs. Chocolates flavoured with violet essence also have a traditional association with Valentines Day, as St. Valentine is said to have used ink made from the flower to write messages from his prison cell.
I decided to try my hand at some violet-related cooking this week by making a version of violet sugar shortbread, based on an idea seen in: Sweethearts: Wild Violet Sugar Valentines – Gather Victoria. Unfortunately, I don't have a plentiful supply of Viola odorata in our garden and I therefore cheated and bought some pre-prepared violet sugar from Amazon. The finished biscuits looked pretty and were a throwback to the Parma Violet sweets I loved as a child!
Most of the violets in our own garden have planted themselves, though they are all "dog" or "woodland" violets (Viola riviniana), which are very common throughout the UK. The "dog" prefix refers to the inferiority of the variety compared to its sweet-smelling relative, as dog violets are completely unscented. However, it does serve as an important food source for a number of threatened butterfly species, such as the high brown fritillary and the small pearl-bordered fritillary.
In addition to the emerging violets, there does seem to be an abundance of blues and yellows in the garden; the forsythia is flowering well, the rosemary is covered in blue and the little forget me nots will soon be covering the borders (no matter how thoroughly I remove them each year, they always seem to have the last laugh).
As the weather improves and the weeds grow, I have been busy this week preparing the soil and planting my first set of early potatoes down at the allotment. A fellow allotmenteer did advise me that I should have waited until Good Friday; however, I decided to risk it and plant them a little early!
I have also pruned my buddleia in readiness for Summer flowering and transplanted the majority of my seedlings into larger pots. As I worked, it was good to see so much wildlife returning to the garden. Ladybirds are crawling out from their winter shelters and a beautiful thrush visits the garden daily. The ever-present robin entertains me with it's constant singing and the bees hum along.
I also discovered the following visitor in our living room last week where it evidently had been spending the winter. It emerged covered in cobwebs from (I think) our chimney and was very docile. At first I thought it was a queen wasp, but now wonder whether it could have been a European Hornet. In any event, I caught it under a glass and then released it outside, under the very interested gaze of Tilly the cat.
To Violets by Robert Herrick
Welcome, maids of honour!
You do bring
In the Spring,
And wait upon her.
She has virgins many,
Fresh and fair;
Yet you are
More sweet than any.
You're the maiden posies,
And so graced
To be placed
'Fore damask roses.
Yet, though thus respected,
By-and-by
Ye do lie,
Poor girls, neglected.
The Faerie Queene by Edmund Spenser
It was upon a Sommers shynie day,
When Titan faire his beames did display,
In a fresh fountaine, farre from all mens vew,
She bath'd her brest, the boyling heat t'allay;
She bath'd with roses red, and violets blew,
And all the sweetest flowres, that in the forrest grew.
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