What a lovely afternoon....

And now for the lilacs....

Spring continues to advance; the fruit tree are still foamy with blossom, but up close those blossoms are beginning to brown and curl.....however, the lilacs are in their full splendor.  Nearby there is a stretch of country road lined with lilac trees, named, appropriately enough, Lilac Valley Road.  Unfortunately, road crews have recently trimmed them back (or I should say hacked them back) but it is still a very pleasant, and heavenly scented drive or walk.

 

No wonder people love them so much, they'd be spectacular and beautiful enough if it were just a visual thing, but combined with that fragrance that just hangs in the air or wafts to you on an evening breeze.......makes you glad to be alive!

 

Wisteria

I couldn't find an appropriate quote this time, to introduce my post about Wisteria.  (Yes....although some of the quotes I use are favorites of mine from books or poetry I've actually read, others I just google for.)  Yet, the very name Wisteria evokes visions of ancient, grey English walls, draped with the drooping purple blossoms of this beautiful vine.

Like this -

And one comes across references to it in literature and in popular culture - the Sherlock Holmes story 'Wisteria Lodge', for example, and there's the 'Wisteria Lane', familiar to those who follow the Desperate Housewives TV program (I'm not among them!), although I'm sure there are other, previous Wisteria Lanes.

Wisteria is another plant I associate with the British Isles, although according to Wikipedia, it's actually native to the Eastern United States, Japan, areas of China, and Korea.  But the house Louisa purchased 2 years ago had a Wisteria-like vine sprawled over the south wall - and we both hoped that it was, indeed Wisteria!   It was hard to be sure until it bloomed, and this year, it has!  And sure enough, the distinctive, drooping purple flowers are definately those of Wisteria.  Up close, the individual flowettes look alot like sweet pea. 

   

"And wild-scatter'd cowslips bedeck the green dale."

I associate cowslips with England.   Maybe it's distant memories of my English Grandmother talking about them, or of a childhood book of poetry, illustrated with soft pastel drawings of those green dales, bedecked with the pretty plants with their nodding yellow flower heads.  Or perhaps it's the presence of cowslips in so much English poetry.  The title of this post is from a poem by Robert Burns entitled The Chevalier's Lament.

Somehow I never imagined that cowslips would grow in Canada, but low and behold if I didn't find them for sale at Richter's Herbs in Goodwood, a few years ago.  I purchased a plant, and was delighted to find that it proved hardy enough to survive our harsh winters.  Now it's a huge, healthy clump of elongated dark green leaves, and at this time of year it's bright with flowers. 

Cowslips are related to primroses, and bees love them.   If you look closely at the flowers, they are softly marked on the inside with faint red freckles.   

You can make a sort of fermented drink from cowslips blossoms, called, not surprisingly, cowslip wine.  It is said to be a good tonic and to quiet coughing.

Cowslips have a variety of interesting folk names, including fairy cup, keys of heaven, and password.  Magically, the plant is reputed to discourage visitors, and to assist you in locating treasure.

  

"And there is pansies, that's for thoughts."

It occurred to me, as I sat in the sun on our balcony this afternoon, eating a raspberry poptart and gazing at two large planters packed with pansies - what incredibly beautiful flower pansies are!  (Yes, I'm a soul of simple pleasures....some pansies, a poptart, a bit of warm spring sun, all is good!)

Hardy, prolific, and cheerfully colourful, it's no wonder pansies have inspired some of our most famous and best loved poets.   You may recognize the quote used in the title of this post - it's William Shakespeare, from Hamlet.

Here are some more pansy inspired lines -

'I send thee pansies while the year is young, yellow as sunshine, purple as the night; flowers of remembrance, ever fondly sung by all the chiefest of the sons of light; and if in recollection lives regret for wasted days, and dreams that were not true, I tell thee that the pansy "freaked with jet" is still the heart's-ease that the poets knew.  Take all the sweetness of a gift unsought, and for the pansies send me back a thought.'  - Sarah Doudney

The word pansy comes from the french pensee, which means thought, and in the Victorian language of flowers, pansies represent thoughts.  Over the centuries the pansy has accumulated a number of charming folk names; two-faces-under-the-sun, face-in-hood, herb trinity, and heart's ease to name a few.  Magically, the pansy is said to attract love, reveal your life's purpose, and help you to feel safe.  But maybe the real magic is simply in how lovely they are.