Venetian-ness

Hints of spring

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They’re only hints, mind you, but they brighten my outlook considerably.

You might not notice them if you weren’t looking for them, but I was. Violets are one of the earliest, rashest signs of spring. They ask no questions about long-term commitment from the first rays of warmth, they just bloom.
Leaves on the trees at Sant’ Elena are equally irrepressible, thank heaven.
At this fleeting stage they seem more like flowers than leaves, though of course I know that’s totally wrong, botanically speaking. But they aren’t going to be outdone by any mere blossoms.
Peach blossoms. They’re not from around here, but they are just as dependable a sign of primavera as some of the fish in the nearby market.
Ditto the pussy willows (Salix cinerea). The silvery sheath on each bud is at least as beautiful as sterling.  When they bloom, these flowers — which don’t even look like flowers — are rock-star providers of nectar.  And to think I always treated them as a curiosity that was just fun to play with.
An old German card shows the pussy-willow tradition at Easter and/or Palm Sunday in northern and eastern Europe, as well as Ukraine, Russia, and among the Ruthenian and Kashubian Catholics (I just threw that in.)  Here in the sunny Mediterranean the pussy willows are long gone by Easter, but it’s a lovely thought.
This year the ever-faithful and -predictable forsythia has just been replaced in my pantheon by this bewitching shrub at the entrance to the Morosini Naval School. Its perfume captured me before I had even noticed its flowers.
If any reader can identify this marvel, I’d be grateful. Otherwise I’m just going to have to invent a name for it myself, and it will probably be a long one, like a champion dog. (The pink buds are just on their way to opening into cream-colored flowers, a magical moment which will undoubtedly occur tonight when nobody’s looking.)
I imagine it happening not long after sunset, which shades into night much too quickly. Tomorrow will almost certainly reveal some new wonder.

 

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11 Comments

  1. Lonicera fragrantissima is my guess…”Sweet Breath of Spring”, “Winter Honeysuckle”, “January Jasmine”, and “Kiss Me at the Gate” are all common names!

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    2. A member of the honeysuckle family is my guess too but there are nearly 200 species so it’s hard to tell from the distance that the photo was taken. Not native to Italy (but China) so it could have been a byproduct of Venice’s maritime trade!

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      1. Thanks, as always. Photos seem to confirm Lonicera fragrantissima (honeysuckle family, as you said). As for plants and Venice, perhaps you know that the Venetian Republic established a botanical garden in Padova in 1545, now the oldest academic botanical garden in the world that is still in its original location. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orto_botanico_di_Padova

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      1. The folly of relying on memory.

        There scattered oft, the earliest of the year, by hands unseen, are showers of violets found.

        Thomas Gray will be spinning in his grave.

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  3. Something about those flowers makes me think of azaleas. I love pussy willows, too. Years ago a knew a woman from Austria who ran a ski hotel in a not to be named resort. She was a popular woman in town and often invented her own version of the English language. Anyway, she called them “willow pussys,” and quite enjoyed the use of “pussy” that way. Yes, she was a bombshell. She got a lot of attention around town. Probably still does!

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  5. For me the snowdrops beneath my shrubs announce that the worst of winter is passing… they are followed by such bright yellow crocuses that they almost make your eyes ache after the gloom of winter. The daffodils, muscari and pussy willow and many others including flowering currant bushes, follow swiftly behind in my garden.

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