The Bitter and the Sweet. Whitlowgrass, Draba verna or Erophila verna, Océ-weerd, Venlo, The Netherlands
A tiny herald of Spring, our Draba verna, Whtilowgrass. Its flower measures perhaps 4 mm across and it huddles close to the ground so it's easily overlooked. 'Whitlow' derives from ancient words describing white-suppurating sores on finger or thumb which concoctions from the plant were supposed to cure. In Dutch it's called 'Vroegeling' which, I suppose, is best rendered into English as 'Firstling'.
It's known scientifically by two names: Draba and Erophila. 'Draba' means acrid or bitter; 'Erophila' is for loving Spring. And that brings a lot of English literature together. Geoffrey Chaucer (1343-1400), of course, wrote about the sweet-smelling showers of April. But T.S. Eliot (1888-1965) about April as the cruellest month; and Spring as bitter:
'What sign of the spring of the year?
Only the death of the old: not a stir, not a shoot, not a breath.
Do the days begin to lengthen?
Longer and darker the day, shorter and colder the night.
Still and stifling the air: but a wind is stored in the East.
The starved crow sits in the field, attentive; and in the wood
The owl rehearses the hollow note of death.
What signs of a bitter spring?
The wind stored up in the East.'
Choose only after some contemplation...
But I hurried indoors to get these little flowers to you.
The Bitter and the Sweet. Whitlowgrass, Draba verna or Erophila verna, Océ-weerd, Venlo, The Netherlands
A tiny herald of Spring, our Draba verna, Whtilowgrass. Its flower measures perhaps 4 mm across and it huddles close to the ground so it's easily overlooked. 'Whitlow' derives from ancient words describing white-suppurating sores on finger or thumb which concoctions from the plant were supposed to cure. In Dutch it's called 'Vroegeling' which, I suppose, is best rendered into English as 'Firstling'.
It's known scientifically by two names: Draba and Erophila. 'Draba' means acrid or bitter; 'Erophila' is for loving Spring. And that brings a lot of English literature together. Geoffrey Chaucer (1343-1400), of course, wrote about the sweet-smelling showers of April. But T.S. Eliot (1888-1965) about April as the cruellest month; and Spring as bitter:
'What sign of the spring of the year?
Only the death of the old: not a stir, not a shoot, not a breath.
Do the days begin to lengthen?
Longer and darker the day, shorter and colder the night.
Still and stifling the air: but a wind is stored in the East.
The starved crow sits in the field, attentive; and in the wood
The owl rehearses the hollow note of death.
What signs of a bitter spring?
The wind stored up in the East.'
Choose only after some contemplation...
But I hurried indoors to get these little flowers to you.