Friday's Flower

Being forced to learn Wordsworth's cloying little paean to that "jocund company" in grade school I should have reason enough to detest daffodils with a passion.  But you had to give old William his due,  he had it right - a bed of daffodils nodding and swaying in the breeze is a sight that does cause the heart to raise a few levels on the joyful scale.

What I hadn't realize until I did a bit of Googling that the daffodil is the same as  the narcissus is the same as the jonquil.  Nor did I know that it is highly toxic and though the most oft told derivation of its name comes from the Greek legend of a very lovely and vain young man it may also come from the Greek word narkao or "I grow numb", describing its narcotic properties.

The story that Delord tells and Grandville illustrates in Les fleurs animées recounts another tale of vanity but this time the vain one is a young Sicilian beauty spoken of as a warning to all young girls.

Sadly young Louis, a brave lad, a bold sailor and a kind comrade falls hopelessly in love with the vain beauty.  She leads him on and he soon sells all that he has to buy her the fine silks and gems that she demands - thinking only of how they will enhance her beauty not of the sacrifices her smitten lover has made to obtain them for her.  Eventually, having sold all he had, Louis becomes a brigand - robbing and "risking his soul's welfare in order to gratify the vain wishes of her heart."

The Governor sends a detachment of soldiers under the command of a handsome young corporal to deal with the robber and Louis is killed.  When the soldiers return Narcissa attempts to ensnare the young officer the way she had once ensnared poor Louis.  But the corporal is a man of the world and sees the emptiness beyond the beauty.

Rejected by her village Narcissa seeks refuge in a grotto by a holy stream high on the mountain of Monte-Negro.  But rather than weeping for her errors and repenting of her vanity she spends the day admiring her beauty in the waters of the stream.  One day a holy man climbed the mountain bent on exorcising the demons of vanity from the cold beauty.

A chilling warning - perhaps it is only in crowds that the lovely daffodil is "jocund company".

17 May -1152: Henry II of England marries Eleanor of Aquitaine.

Friday's Flower

I know that Friday was several days ago but it took time to gather a bouquet fine enough to present as a Mother's day offering to all my dear friends who deserve flowers that have been picked with care and thought.

I'm not sure if all the flowers dancing at Grandeville's Le Bal are May flowers but I think its a lovely illustration for Aubade*, Taxile Delorde's invocation to the first flowers of the spring as translated by Jeremiah Cleaveland.

This coterie of flowers has all the style and grace - and the tantalizingly exposed limbs -
of the coryphées from Le Ballet de l'Opéra de Paris who so enchanted
the wealthy gentlemen of the period.

We had several stalks of Campanule or Canterbury Bells in our first small garden
- they were always a favourite.  That dancer with the slightly manic look may have just
found out that her common English name is Lady's Ear Drop (Fuschia).

I love the French common name for Delphinium (Larkspur) - Pied d'alouette - which literally
translates as "the Lark's Foot".   The French has a very dance-like sound to it - perhaps it's
the term used in ballet for the dancing movement made by a stand of delphs.

Joining in the dance perhaps celebrating May and Mother's Day are the Muguet (Lily of the Valley),
the  Pyramidale (Bell Flower) and the Liseron (Morning Glory).  All those bell like flowers
dancing with such abandon must sound like a joyous carillon welcoming the warm weather and sun.

Overseeing the festivities is the regal Reine Marguerite- a little bit of serendipity
as my mother-in-law's favourite flower has always been the stately China Aster.
I only wish that she were able to once again enjoy their beauty.

So here's my Mother's Day bouquet and my wish that it may - like that first flower of the spring - indeed bring "good fortune for the rest of the year."

* This very old French word can mean a song or instrumental composition concerning, accompanying, or evoking daybreak or a poem or song about lovers separating at dawn.

13 May - 1995: 33-year-old British mother Alison Hargreaves became the first woman to conquer Everest without oxygen or the help of sherpas.