The flower project

Number one - Forget-me-nots

Soil, flowers, the scent of damp timber and compost, the chaotic tumble of my shed that always needs to be tidied breathe life through me when everything else fails. At this time of year it's the first thing I think of in the morning and the last thing at night. It's hard not to abandon writing altogether during these days but this depth of feeling deserves to be put into words and from this an idea has emerged. During the next few months I'm going to photograph and write about what's on my doorstep, my tiny but bursting at the seams garden that's full of stories, hopes and failures.

Forget-me-nots

I never plant forget-me-nots. They appear each spring, clouds of blue, white, pink set over downy pale green leaves. This year they follow the edge of the stepping stones, filling the gap left by spent tulips and daffodils, waiting for the vibrant pinks and purples that June will bring. Some years I have been irritated by them, their untidiness, their paleness. Latterly I have grown to appreciate how the fill the space between seasons, the softness after winter, their role in laying a gentle path through spring.

The flower project - poem #1

Forget-me-not

A handful of stars

remind your life

that began with moon landings

and ended with feet floating through air

is part of the earth,

of the sky.

Forget-me-not Folklore

Unsurprisingly, forget-me-nots are symbols of love, remembrance and faithfulness. One of the most well-known legends comes from medieval folk tales. A knight and his beloved were walking by a river when she notices tiny blue flowers that are about to be consumed by the strong current. Her knight bent to save the flowers, but as his lady watched tragedy struck; his heavy armour caused her love to lose his balance and tumble into the waters. As he was swept away by the current he tossed the bouquet for her to catch and shouted, “ne m’oubliez pas”.

Interestingly, even if the legend is French, the name has been essentially lost in France, where they simply call the plant myosotis after it's Greek name (which means mouse ear on account of the petal shape) Nonetheless, the name forget-me lives on in other languages as well as English: Vergissmeinnicht in German, no-me-olvides in Spanish, nontiscordardimé in Italian and gleym mér ei in Icelandic.

An alternative story is that when the Gods were giving the flowers their colours, the dainty forget-me-not was almost overlooked and meekly cried “forget-me-not” . Only blue remained and so the name and colour were given as one.

The flower was also an important part of heraldry. Well before purple became a symbol of royalty, Henry IV adopted it as his emblem. His subsequent return to the English throne cemented this unassuming flower as a symbol of luck and protection.

Until next time

Kathryn

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