Violets

This is the week when I have become very excited about violets. We’ve long been hankering after a patch of the old fashioned scented violets which used to be sold as little posies outside London theatres - a tiny treat which is no longer grown commercially for cutting. They used to grow them in Cornwall, and send them in boxes to the cities, but it is so labour intensive that the activity became unviable, more’s the pity. In my mind’s eye I see neat little posies of inky purple flowers, arranged with a ring of wrinkly green leaves around their stems. But once I started to look into the subject, I discovered that there are lots of different kinds and colours of this lovely flower, as well as variations in the power of their perfume. I bought some, to trial in several spots across the garden, just to see how they would get on. This year for the first time our new plants (from Groves nurseries, who have lots), have been producing exquisitely pretty, sweetly-scented flowers in shades of white, pink, and purple. Some are veined another colour. The young plants are sheltering in our little propagation tunnel, and the scent in there on a warm day is soothing and sweet, almost euphoric. It suddenly occurred to me yesterday that I ought to pick some, so I have carefully gathered one of each of the kinds into a tiny vase, and have been enjoying carrying it about with me, sniffing it, and and looking at the delicate petals and markings up close. In the wild, violets grow on the verges of woodland, so in the walled garden we will be looking for a spot that has good bright sunshine in the spring, followed by dappled shade through the summer. Beneath rose bushes should be perfect. Which brings me onto my second exciting violet-discovery this week: on a bank at the back of the cottage at home, I have stumbled upon a veritable carpet of the wild white violet, creeping fragrantly about amongst a mat of ivy and other stuff, and towering above them are some big gnarly dog roses, which we value in summer for their flowers and in autumn for their hips. How had I not noticed these flowers before? In our wild flower books there are pictures of lots of kinds of violet, and they do look similar to me so I can’t be sure what kind this is, except that its flowers are much littler than my special cutting kinds, and it looks very tough and at home where it is. Perhaps a cottager of days gone by planted and nurtured a clump there? In any case, it clearly show me the way: to plant my new treasures in the rose garden.