Down in a green and crowded box
A modest pansy grew
Its stalk was bent it hung its head
As if to hide from view.
And yet, it was a lovely flower
Its colors bright and fair,
It might have graced a rosy bower
Instead of hiding there.
Yet there it was, content to bloom
Its modest tints arrayed,
And there it spread its sweet perfume
Within the silent shade.
Then let me to the window go
This pretty flower to see
That I may also learn to grow
In sweet humility.
~ Author Unknown
I found this poem back in August, written or copied by hand, on a slip of paper hidden between other papers in one of the family history boxes I was diligently sorting through. I don’t know if one of our ancestors wrote it or if they copied it down from some other source. Naturally, I thought it would make for a great post when pansy season came around.
Well, I was still pondering how different the seasons are down south here, after experiencing apple picking for Lammas Day instead of on the Autumn Equinox. I was in for another big surprise. It turns out pansies are considered cool season annuals in North Carolina, and they bloom from fall through spring! They are usually planted from late October through the month of November!
Then I remembered noticing last fall that the local nursery was selling pansies right alongside mums. Another memory surfaced, too, seeing pansies in flower boxes along the sidewalks back in January 2019, when we were down here visiting. It seemed like they were out so early, but they had probably been there since November.
These discoveries are leading to a paradigm shift in how the wheel of the year looks to me. So I decided to be a careful observer for a year or two, letting my old assumptions go and gradually finding a new way of thinking about (and celebrating!) the seasons.
Pansies for All Souls’ Day? In honor of an ancestor who loved and wrote down this poem? Why not? “Learning to grow in sweet humility…’
This made me feel warm and cosy all through ♥
Pansies have always seemed to me to be the most cheerful of all the flowers. ♡
A whole new world to explore! 🙂
Found a new nature writer this morning who lives nearby and ordered his book on the Piedmont… 🙂
I was thinking while reading your post from 2019 (and hopefully the comment went through as it didn’t appear so), just how wonderful it is to discover the new and different things about your adopted state after so many years of living in Connecticut. You have now lived in North Carolina for six seasons and you are making new discoveries all the time.
I had never heard of cold-weather pansies until I began going to a new hair salon, a whimsical shop with old-time barbershop poles, cowboy and country décor inside and some unusual plants out in front of the shop, a cactus garden, which thrived year around – in Michigan?! How could that be? I asked the owners, a husband and wife and Jim said “my great green thumb” with a smile, then added “you can grow Eastern Prickly Pear Cactus almost anywhere in the U.S.” Well that was news to me and I asked my mom if she wanted to get some as she enjoyed growing cacti inside the house. She passed on that – too bad as they seemed to thrive. Jim also planted Cold-weather pansies before the snow was gone and I’d drive by on a chilly March or April day and there they were, bobbing their colorful heads, sometimes laden with snow.
Yay! Your comment did go through!
I knew about prickly pear cactuses after discovering them in the arboretum back in Connecticut. I suppose if they can survive CT winters they can survive your winters, too. The decor you found at the hair salon sounds very appealing and eclectic. We used to plant pansies in April or around Easter in CT. They started the gardening season. I’m tempted to get a pot of pansies for the porch now, but last year a squirrel ruined my mums trying to hide his nuts in the dirt in the pot.
I had never heard that about prickly pear cactuses until I saw them at Jill and Jim’s shop. It is very eclectic and Jim did very cool artwork and I bought some for the garden and the house … he buys pieces of slate, paints them, then hand letters quotations on them. I had him do some for my garden which you may remember seeing (Bird Baths 5 cents, Drinks free) and he sells the slates as he calls them at craft shows. When I went for my hair I’d go early to read and look at all his new slates. I know the squirrels hide their nuts in the potted plants … I forgot that aspect of gardening as I have used only silk flowers and did not “plant” them in dirt, but secured them with river rocks in an orange or grapefruit netting. Joke was on the squirrel. 🙂
I do remember — I love your bird bath sign, it really caught my eye. Will you put it out again in your new landscaping? Good for you, outsmarting those squirrels! 🙂 I knew someone who painted slates before. There’s something uniquely appealing about them. I love being in the woods here, but it’s not too compatible with gardening, between squirrel activities and dense shade from the trees. The shade is great in the hot summer, though, keeping us cooler than the sunnier spots in town, and I’m sure that helps with the electric bill.
I really liked Jim’s slates – all Winter he’d be painting and lettering like crazy for the art fairs we have around here. I also had him paint a wooden sign to hang on the fence which I think said “Plant Kindness, Reap Joy” – I forget the exact wording and he painted it to match the house, light blue. Just before I retired, my boss brought all my stuff from work and I had a few slates hung up in my office that I forgot about. I should take some photos to use for Wordless Wednesday. I packed everything away that he dropped off, including the wolf prints I had on the wall, until I finish decluttering the house. I don’t think I will feed the birds and squirrels again because my neighbor Jeff, Marge’s son, fed them last year and this year and said there were too many Sparrows. He is right – I walk in the backyard and about 50 Sparrows fly into the big Golden Vicary bush. He also said he had the same problem as you with the squirrels digging up his flowers to hide their peanuts – he was feeding them peanuts. I won’t do that as there is a Cooper’s Hawk that sits in a big tree across the street. It already got all the squirrels I fed in 2020. I have been giving them suet cakes as I don’t worry about squirrels getting to them or dropping seeds on the ground. I will use the hummingbird feeders though. And I saw butterfly nectar feeders, something new last year. Same principle as hummingbird feeders, with the low dish and ports for them to sip from. You make up a similar nectar. I thought I’d try it – the plants likely won’t take off for a while to lure butterflies and bees.
In butterfly houses they often feed them very ripe or rotting fruit. They put it in a dish and poke holes in the fruit so they can stick their proboscises in the juice. Good way to get rid of bananas that have gone by.
I didn’t know that about butterfly houses – that is interesting to know Barbara. This year I saw the butterfly nectar and dishes – I did not even know that butterfly nectar existed. That is good to remember for those bananas that get speckled and brown way too quickly. I hope the squirrels don’t try to nab them?
It would be interesting to see who would get a banana first here, the deer or the squirrels… 🐿️
Yes! I wonder if they would fight for it? I’m sure the critters love the sweet taste. They’d end up with banana all over their snouts – what a photo that would make!
I like pansies on principle. They seem to be a bit reluctant to grow here, but I’ll not hold that against them.
They’re hard to resist, they look so cheerful. It’s too bad they don’t feel at home in your garden. 🙁
Hey Barbara– I love your reflection on the differences in seasons in different latitudes. I found this as a possible source of the poem: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/51917/the-violet
Thanks, Susan! It makes me wonder if the ancestor who wrote down the poem was trying to do so from memory. She substituted ‘crowded box’ for ‘shady bed,’ and ‘spread’ for ‘diffused,’ and ‘window’ for ‘valley.’
The Violet by Jane Taylor
Down in a green and shady bed,
A modest violet grew,
Its stalk was bent, it hung its head,
As if to hide from view.
And yet it was a lovely flower,
Its colours bright and fair;
It might have graced a rosy bower,
Instead of hiding there,
Yet there it was content to bloom,
In modest tints arrayed;
And there diffused its sweet perfume,
Within the silent shade.
Then let me to the valley go,
This pretty flower to see;
That I may also learn to grow
In sweet humility.