“I can see meadows, deep woods, which the first outburst of buds mists over with an elusive green, cold streams, forgotten springs drunk up by the sand as soon as they are born,….and violets, violets, violets….
…I can see a silent girl whom spring had already enchanted with wild happiness, with a bittersweet and mysterious joy….
…Short-stemmed violets, white violets and blue violets, and white-blue violets veined with mauve mother-of-pearl, big enemic cowslip violets, which raise their pale odorless corollas on long stems….
…February violets, blooming beneath the snow, ragged-edged, burned with frost, ugly, poor fragrant little things…
…O violets of my childhood! You rise up before me, all of you, you lattice the milky April sky, and the quivering of your countless little faces intoxicates me…”
******
This post is dedicated to my mother, the queen of violets. Forever in my house growing up there were various pots of African Violets throughout, adorning every window sill that faced the sun. When they became too thick she would divide of flowers and re-plant them, and somehow, always, these little purple miracles would start to grow….Sometimes she’d give them away…as gifts for no reason at all….Today, she still is the queen of violets, but presently only a few sturdy plants adorn her kitchen window, the watering of which is my job this month while she’s away in Florida…Seeing them warms my heart, and coming across these images did the same. Reminders….memory….
The text with the images above was written by Colette, from a short piece called “The Last Fire.”
Image list: Violets by Fearium
Violets…January by mechtaniya (the little girl is beautiful!)
Sweet Violets by TThealer
Violets by ierrepier
Violets by Coherence
