Crocus flower- myth and sentiment

Crocus (Krokos), once a beautiful mortal youth who loved a nymph named Smilax, let his impatience get the better of him, (unrequited love?) ultimately angering the gods. They turned him into a spring blossom.

It seems he didn’t learn his lesson re: impatience.  A win for us as the purple, white, or yellow flower he encompasses still hurries, not for nymphs, but to be one of the first blossoms to greet the spring among melting snow.

There’s another version of the Crocus myth which involves Hermes, the messenger of the gods. Said to be lovers, and while participating in athletic games together, a discus thrown by Hermes hit Crocus upon the head, killing him instantly. Hermes, grief-stricken, transformed his lover into the spring flower we all know and love.

In any case, myth or not, it is a sight for sore eyes to see these lovely, seemingly delicate but not, flowers bloom after a long winter.

References:
– The language and sentiment of flowers : with floral records and selected poetry and original illustrations printed in colours  by Valentine, L. (Laura)
– Ovid’s Metamorphoses, trans. by Brookes More, 1922

 

 

Wordless Wednesday Wildlife – Pine Grosbeaks

March: In like a lion, I’d say. But, houseplants keep me sane.

You know that old proverb, “March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb.”

I suppose that’s especially true here in Ontario because March straddles winter and spring.

It tends to offer harsh or inclement weather, exactly like the kind of snow squalls we’re experiencing today.

This is what I’d call a lion! Unpleasant weather in the beginning of the month.

As the saying goes on to state, it’s then supposed to become milder and more palatable weather by the end of March.  I’ll believe it when I see it. 😉

In the meantime I’ve been fussing over my houseplants. I get to this point in winter where the season has lost its charm. The snow’s not pretty any longer, and I’m sick of shovelling.

More importantly, there’s too much of it on top of my garden, which makes me think I won’t be outside walking around barefoot anytime soon! Likely mid-May.

But back to the houseplants, I have more than many, and less than some.

When I closed my business I scaled back on the amount of greenery around the house, which is a good thing in hindsight, considering there’s only so many spots for plants, but I’m not above buying another, or accepting a cutting from a friend.

The plants I’ve kept are getting me through winter. Especially this winter!

They take my mind off of the pandemic and help to keep my focus on being a nurturer of sorts, instead of paying too much attention to things in the outside world that I cannot change.

Winter can be bleak and dark and monochromatic, which means I long for the greenery and lush scenery of spring and summer. Isn’t it just good for the soul to drink in nature? Winter means less drinking for us, but for plants, ironically it means more.

I take each of my plants to the sink. I water them until they can’t absorb another drop. That way the whole root ball gets a drink, meaning healthier plants. It takes a bit more time, but I’ve got that in spades right now til I’m back at work.

In winter, with the oil furnace blasting dry heat, I find plants dry out much more quickly than they do in the summer when there’s more humidity in the air.

The sun is also lower in the sky right now, so more sunlight comes in the windows, that is when the sun isn’t hiding behind snow-laden clouds.

Some of my larger plants like the amaryllis get a trip to the bathtub.

I give them a big drink and let them drain out so as not to have a mess on the table where they normally live.

That way too, I can mist the foliage and give them a chance to feel like they’re in their natural habitat once in a while, instead of my very dry winter house.

Though all the plants seem to thank me for the good care I offer as they continue to thrive in this completely alien environment in which they find themselves, some will even offer gratitude in the form of a flower. Then I know I’ve done right by them and enjoy the blooms of winter, which are possibly more precious than the perennial flowers whose blooms I’ve come to expect each year out in the garden.

I can’t imagine a house with out houseplants. Even just a pot of herbs for cooking. Basil will thrive in a bit of sunlight and you can pinch some to offer fresh flavour all year long.

And seriously, not having at least one plant would be akin to not having art on one’s walls! Boring, flat and without personality. Their life adds depth to ours. They help clean the air and offer a way to excercise our need to nurture something. 🙂

In closing, I’d love to hear about your houseplants.

I’m also happy to help with any questions on how yours can thrive too, if they happen to seem a little sad this time of year and you’re not sure what to do.

With the March lion out there today, I’m not surprised if some plants aren’t beside themselves jumping for joy. 😉 But this too shall pass… In the meantime, stay safe & warm, everyone.

Happy indoor gardening, for now!

 

Cheeky Red Fox – Often maligned, they’re not so different from us!

Looking out the kitchen window this morning, I spotted several turkeys in the yard running up the hill. It was then I saw what they were running from. A lone fox on their tail!

She didn’t have a hope in hell of catching one, though I give her points for trying! Everyone has to eat.

The birds are bigger than her, and can be pretty vicious if need be. They have big claws used for digging, and can peck like a hammer drill.

Turkey in our yard

Contrary to what many think, (remember that WKRP in Cincinati episode where turkeys dropped like wet bags of cement?), turkeys can fly. They would have taken to the trees if they thought that vixen was a real threat.

The turkeys roost in the trees up that hill overnight for protection against any predators. I see them out all the time, walking down our road and through around our property like families do, a group out for a stroll. 🙂

What I don’t see often enough these days are foxes. The few I’ve seen, with the exception of this very healthy looking lady, have contracted mange, which I suspect has to do with their low numbers in this area.

As a gardener, I’ve noted the rise in number of mice, voles, and chipmunks this past year around our property. I imagine the tide will turn again, and when it does, foxes will have plenty to eat.

Red foxes feature prominently in folklore and mythology. In Greek mythology, the Teumessian fox was a described as a gigantic fox destined never to be caught.

In Celtic mythology a red fox is a symbolic animal and a shape-shifter. Some folklore in England states how witches were thought to take their shape to steal butter from their neighbours.

In European folklore, the figure of Reynard the Fox symbolises trickery and deceit. Many of Reynard’s adventures may stem from actual observations on fox behaviour; he is an enemy of the wolf and has a fondness for blackberries and grapes.

Chinese folk tales tell of fox-spirits called huli jing that have nine tails. They’re known as kumiho in Korea, and Japanese mythology offers the kitsune, a fox-like spirit possessing magical abilities that increase with their age and wisdom.

The cunning Fox is commonly found in Native American mythology. It’s portrayed as a companion to Coyotes. Fox, however, is a deceitful companion that often steals Coyote’s food.

In light of all the folklore and myth surrounding these experts at survival, except in today’s case of my friend vixen thinking she could take down a turkey, it seems to me, we humans have been projecting our fears on to foxes and other animals since time began.

Perhaps in the case of a fox, that’s because humans share many of its traits….

Afterall, they’re creatures who seek food, shelter, and want to survive, thrive, and take care of their families, just like us!

I can’t fault them for that. 🙂

Valentine’s Day herbs – Divination for the pursuit of love, and for escaping love, too.

There’s an old Valentine’s Day custom that was anxiously awaited by potential would-be lovers each year. It took place on the eve of February 14th, and this harmless process of divination incorporated bay leaves as a way to dream of one’s future beloved.

Described in a newspaper article, a late 16th century periodical called the Connoisseur, it went something like this:

“Last Friday was Valentine’s Day, and the night previous I got five bay-leaves, and pinned four of them to the four corners of my pillows, and the fifth to the middle; and then, if I dreamt of my sweetheart, I was told that we should be married before the year was out.”

I’m not sure if that practice was ever successful, but I don’t think it would hurt to give it a try if one is seeking a suitable mate. 🙂 I imagine one’s pillow would smell nice at the very least, and it would be easy to purchase bay leaves at the grocery store in order to give it a try!

Apollo and Daphne attributed to Piero del Pollaiolo, 1480

On the flipside, the story of Daphne and Apollo, introduced to us in Ovid’s Metamorphosis, bay leaves, or a tree really, is used as a method for escaping the pursuit of love (lust is more likely), instead.

In this tale, perpetual virgin Daphne, the river nymph, while pursued by Apollo, the Greek sun god (who could be considered a stalker and one who wouldn’t take no for an answer) was transformed in to such a tree to escape his clutches, and not a moment too soon, either!

Daphne’s metamorphosis into a laurel tree may have been a form of escape from Apollo, but he later crafted a wreath out of her laurel branches, keeping her within his grasp afterall.

Michael Drayton, in his “Muses’ Elysium,” heralds the Bay leaf like this:
“The garland long ago was worn As Time pleased to bestow it:
The laurel only to adorn The conqueror and the poet.”

In any case, love isn’t always a bed of roses, back then or now. Sometimes it’s a bed of bay leaves. 😉