Flowers, trees and romance

We’ve finally welcomed spring this week, so I think it’s about time to write about this loving season and the beauty it brings.

Daisy chains

When I was a kid we used to go to the mountain as a family every Sunday. We even had our own spot: under a robust tree on top of a hill in the region of Navarre. The day would unfold in its usual sequence: a quick stop for coffee first, a walk in the woods (looking for mushrooms if in autumn), “bocadillo de jamón” for lunch and a chilled afternoon —sunbathing, painting with my grandma or doing our nails. Another source of entertainment when it was spring was weaving daisy chains. I first had to make sure to find a long stem and then gently tuck the other daisies through it.

Daisies remind me of childhood.

Calla lilies

I love flowers in general, but I think calla lilies have always been on the top of my list. I find them so elegant, with a beautiful sculptural shape, twisting up, with a thick, long stem. They’re not pompous at all. I’m a bit sad though, they’ve become “trendy” now, and seeing them everywhere seems to have taken away their unique and special character for me.

Daffodils

If I remember correctly, four or five years ago, they started planting daffodils along the river. During the second half of February, some of them would start popping up, and I could check on them because they are close to our flat. I think their finest year was 2022, and I hold this moment dear because it goes back to when Tom and I started dating.

A couple of weeks ago, the last weekend of February, we went on a hike by the french border, and, as we were climbing up, we spotted small yellow flowers. We weren’t quite sure at first, but then did some research and found out that they were indeed wild daffodils. They looked like tiny trumpets, and the outer petals were thin and spiky instead of oval-shaped. They were rather sweet.

When daffodils arrive, I know a special moment is approaching.

Elderflower

I didn’t know much about elderflower until Tom told me about it —especially its possibilities as a drink. That was four years ago. It was May, sunny, and I was in love. He told me he’d seen some elder trees in the city and explained you could make a sweet cordial out of its flowers, so we went to the small hill above the old town in search of some. It’s best to gather them on a sunny day. As we were picking up just some of the flowers, an embittered old lady told us off, as if she owned the place. We didn’t let that grumpy woman get us down, and we made some lovely cordial. I also baked a sponge cake with the juice.

It’s become a tradition now. Last year we tried making some elderflower champagne too —the flowers naturally have some yeast needed for fermentation— but for some reason it didn’t taste as good. Maybe next time.

P.S.: I will write a post about elderflower cordial later this year.

Primroses

Last year, Tom took me to the French border because he’d seen something he thought I might like, and he was right. Near Urrugne, by the roadside, lots of primroses were blooming —a sign that spring was about to arrive. So two weeks ago, we went to see them again to the same spot, and cemented this ritual.

We’ve been spotting them over the last couple of weeks, wherever we go, it’s fun. We now can confirm that they make steep slopes their home, usually north-faced ones, and they enjoy shady bits.

Primroses are a joyful reminder of spring getting close.

Tulips

Tulips are, like calla lilies, amongst my favourite flowers. Again, they display their petals in simple way, they are enveloped by long and narrow leaves and they grow from a thick stem. I always ask Tom to buy me a nice bouquet and last year he finally got some orange tulips for our anniversary.

Nasturtiums

We love cooking and using herbs for our culinary experiments —even growing the seeds, like I wrote on my gardening post.

Last year, for my thirtieth, Tom took me on a weekend to the french-basque village of Ainhoa. There’s a lovely hotel — Ithurria— right in the centre of the picturesque-white-and-red village, in which we stayed. We enjoyed a delicious tasting menu and one of the meals had nasturtium petals and leaves which added a subtle spicy flavour to the dish. The next morning, after a tasty breakfast, we wandered around the garden, which had a wide variety of vegetables —as well as an old AGA randomly displayed— and my beloved nasturtiums plant.

I decided that I wanted to add this edible flower to our collection. We bought some seeds a couple of weeks ago, and right know they’re germinating, I can’t wait!

Nasturtiums remind me of this lovely trip.

Snowdrops

When we went back to England for New Year’s a couple of moths ago, we got lucky and saw some snowdrops blooming. I find them graceful and cute, and though they seem delicate, they’re really tough and survive in harsh conditions. They remind me of England.

Magnolias

When the end of winter gifts us with sunny days and magnolias fully bloom, there are some streets in the centre that look lovely. Surrounded by beautiful Parisian-like modernist buildings, magnolias dye the streets in pink and romanticise the heart of the city. Tom, Miriam and Catherine’s flat was in this area and I hold dear all the time we spent there.

Rosemary flowers

We’ve got some rosemary plants at home. They’re really nice for cooking —with baked potatoes, meat, and some lovely crackers I bake. A couple of weeks ago I noticed that two of them seemed to have buds, which is a good sign. Then, tiny mauve flowers appeared —they do have a lovely colour. I found out that they are edible, so one day, we made our classic pancakes for breakfast and sprinkled a handful of them with some golden syrup (the second round with maple). It was such a nice combination. The flavour of the flowers is not as strong as the leaves, but they’ve got a sweet hint and are really aromatic.

It’s made me love rosemary even more.