Sweet violet
Apr. 17th, 2004 04:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vaneramosAt the end of our lawn, at the top of the bluff overlooking Lake Erie, was a spring garden under the silver poplars. As a child I loved their modest little faces, mostly purple, but a few white with purple throats.
When I was about 11 I planted an herb garden. I don't know where the interest came from. My parents were avid gardeners, but they never took much interest in herbs. Mom gave me a patch of garden around the hydrangea bush by the driveway. I transplanted a shoot of sweetbrier (Rosa eglanteria) that grew on the bluff, and started all the rest of my herbs from seeds.
I wanted to make potpourri. You would think my parents would have guessed I was not an average boy.
One plant I craved but never obtained was sweet violet (Viola odorata). In those days they were difficult to find. I heard they had a fine fragrance. None of the wild violets that grew at Poplar Bluff or in the woods at the cottage seemed to have any smell. My enlightenment would not come until many years later.
About four years ago in fact. I was shopping in Toronto's Old Cabbagetown with Martin and Daniel when I found old-fashioned violet-flavoured candies. I had to buy a tin. The flavour/fragrance was powdery sweet, vaguely familiar. It reminded me of old ladies with lace handkerchiefs drinking tea in dim parlours.
A couple years ago I found this patch of violets in the woods by the Eramosa River. They didn't seem to have a fragrance, but I picked one and put it in my pocket. A day later I found it and pulled it out. Then that powdery aroma filled the room. I don't know whether these are V. odorata, or whether drying is the secret to releasing the wonderful scent from other violets as well, but it works with these ones.
I forgot to put one in my pocket today. I was distracted with taking their picture.
When I was about 11 I planted an herb garden. I don't know where the interest came from. My parents were avid gardeners, but they never took much interest in herbs. Mom gave me a patch of garden around the hydrangea bush by the driveway. I transplanted a shoot of sweetbrier (Rosa eglanteria) that grew on the bluff, and started all the rest of my herbs from seeds.
I wanted to make potpourri. You would think my parents would have guessed I was not an average boy.
One plant I craved but never obtained was sweet violet (Viola odorata). In those days they were difficult to find. I heard they had a fine fragrance. None of the wild violets that grew at Poplar Bluff or in the woods at the cottage seemed to have any smell. My enlightenment would not come until many years later.
About four years ago in fact. I was shopping in Toronto's Old Cabbagetown with Martin and Daniel when I found old-fashioned violet-flavoured candies. I had to buy a tin. The flavour/fragrance was powdery sweet, vaguely familiar. It reminded me of old ladies with lace handkerchiefs drinking tea in dim parlours.
A couple years ago I found this patch of violets in the woods by the Eramosa River. They didn't seem to have a fragrance, but I picked one and put it in my pocket. A day later I found it and pulled it out. Then that powdery aroma filled the room. I don't know whether these are V. odorata, or whether drying is the secret to releasing the wonderful scent from other violets as well, but it works with these ones.
I forgot to put one in my pocket today. I was distracted with taking their picture.
