Several years ago I built an 'amphibian' pond in the garden to welcome frogs, toads & newts however after a long fruitless (and markedly frogless) period all that seemed to be reproducing there was a multitude of mosquitos with their rather ugly larvae wriggling and squirming in the water. We were soon obliged to introduce fish to resolve the mosquito mass-breeding problem, however earlier this year some amphibians finally arrived, in the form of (frog) tadpoles and some adult newts.
While inspecting the pond water yesterday, I noticed the strangest tadpoles I'd ever set my eyes on and went to investigate further by scooping some of these up in a bowl. These tiny creatures with feathery gills like a ruff around the head look like miniature dragons, with thread-like back legs which are barely visible. In fact these 'dragons' are larvae of the newts which have obviously bred to great success. Apparently the adults lays eggs individually on plant leaves, folding these to form a protective envelope, unlike toads and frog which respectively have free-floating strings or clumps of spawn . After the larval stage the newts will enter the second part of the 3-stage metamorphosis process - as 'efts' - where their limbs are fully formed and the external gills are re-absorbed. The adult newt spends much of its time out of the water, only returning to ponds, marshes and slow-flowing streams to breed in the spring.
The male 'Crested' newt is particularly beautiful, with blue colouring & yellow speckling on its flanks and, of course, the distinctive crest along its back. The fact that all these tiny modest creatures apparently have the ability to re-generate damaged limbs or organs only adds to the magic. They do indeed belong to the salamander family which itself has always been doted with magical powers.
The legendary salamander has an affinity with fire as a 'fire elemental' and is believed to be able to survive flames. This belief is supported in part by the very real fact that the creature can secrete a substance that lubricates its body and can deter potential predators when under threat thanks to the toxins therein. Symbolizing the power of faith triumphing over the fires of passion & temptation the salamander was taken as the emblem of François the first in France and sculpted salamanders adorn many of the chateaux, with the wording "I nourish the good and extinguish the bad".
While the mystery of our tiny garden dragons has been solved, I still think these creatures are magical, and was thrilled to be able to discover these with the children.
Far from the beach, but still surrounded by treasure of all kinds just ready to be found, looked at, gloated over, gleaned and swiped or simply created! Here are my latest finds....
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
White elephants & Siamese cats...
In its Asian countries of origin, the elephant was a symbol of power and justice, and endowed peace and prosperity on those who possessed it. It was, and still is in countries such as Burma, highly treasured and coveted even. Even before Hinduism (with Ganesh) and Buddhism with their faith symbolized by the elephant, this creature was at the heart of animistic beliefs and was associated with life and growth. In the Buddhist faith the future mother of Siddharta, Queen Maya, was able to conceive once a white elephant had presented her with a lotus flower and "touched her with its trunk" during a dream; Buddha was born.
| The 'Asia' group from the Albert Memorial, Kensington Park. |
| Pedro |
In a Gothic elephant pose, with legs slightly banjo-shaped, is my Siamese cat who sadly died of old age, well before time and certainly well before I had a digital camera... The Siamese are just such affectionate pests - and I especially love that aspect about them, this 'naughty-but-nice' trait which is often misinterpreted by some, but duly appreciated by others. It is said that during the creation of Noah's ark, an ape fell in love with a lionness and the resulting offspring bore the "attributes of an ape and the bravery of the lion". The actual history of the Siamese cat is perhaps a little more refined than that.....
These particular felines were deemed precious creatures, doted with special powers and as such were sacred temple animals in Thailand, formerly Siam. Apparently these cats were used as venerated guardians in the ancient city of Ayudha, founded in 1356, capital of Siam until it was destroyed by fire during the Burmese invasion in 1767. The ownership of these cats was restricted to the Royal family or at least to a individaul of important descent, such as a knight or promoted to a high-ranking post as a noble. Simple commoners did not have this right and the theft of a cat from the Royal court could result in death.
It was believed that the Siamese would receive and transport the soul of important dead people and so after the death of a high-ranking individual the cat would subsequently be sent to a temple to live a live of luxury, high pomp and ceremony amongst monks. The best morsels of food would be offered on gold platters to the sacred cats, bearer of souls, provided, no doubt at great expense, by the mourning relatives.
The Siamese became known to the Western world towards the end of the 19th century. A certain Edward Gould, Consul-General in Bangkok brought a pair back to his sister in England. The kittens of these were later exhibited at Crystal Palace in 1885, leading to the introduction of this breed to the British public, who, as can be imagined, would have been greatly surprised and shocked in equal measure by the dazzling blue eyes and elongated forms. Around this same period a Siamese was presented as a gift to Mrs Hayes, the president's wife and consequently the Americans were able to hear of this breed originally known as the Royal Cat of Siam and with the development of photography images could be viewed, albeit in black and white...
The traditional Siamese appearance was modified over the following decades, leaving behind the rather rounded 'apple-head' form, and larger body frame to take on the unique, rather snaky, lithe appearance of the modern Siamese which was further exaggerated until there was a return to the more robust, often healthier shape. The genetic flaw of the original Siamese, giving rise to the kinked tail and squinted eyes, origin of many stories and legends, was also modified and lessened by selective breeding over the years. Likewise, the coat itself now presents itself in many beautiful shades - seal, blue, lilac, chocolate being just a few. Nevertheless the pointed pattern of the coat still retains its original characteristic wherein the fur is heat-sensitive on the cooler extremities of the body (the points) and will darken considerably in cold temperatures due the specific melanin production. The beautiful blue eyes are said to lack a structure which aides night vision and this would account for the fact that the Siamese tend to be less active at night in comparison to other breeds, generally preferring to be in bed with their masters and mistresses, all the more to our pleasure!
Anyone who has had the honour of owning a Siamese cat knows that, in fact, it is us mere humans who are owned, captivated by a humourous yet quite haughty feline friend, who gives dog-like devotion and companionship over the years.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Purple Petals & Mauve Mania...
I love the colour of this piece of Indian needlework, so delicate and quite difficult to define, in fact rather like my faded dried hydrangea flowers or a very watered-down shade of the mauve flowers in the garden which seem to change depending on the light.
'Purple' seems to be a very general colour description since in reality one person's concept of this seems to differ greatly to another's, apparently due to the differences in retinal sensitivity in the human eye to red and blue light. Purple can therefore include a somewhat wide range of colours, a hue between violet and red, and few people agree with what actually constitutes this. The names given to shades of 'purple' are lovely to simply read off... heliotrope, lilac, violet, pansy, lavender, orchid, mulberry & regalia are just a few.
Purple is wildly associated, historically speaking, with royalty and 'high office'. Certainly purple, deriving its name from Greek porphyra - the spiny murex whose secretions provided the dye, was only available to the very wealthy, from its very origins in classical antiquity.
It wasn't until the 19th century that the colour mauve was to be introduced to Victorian society, and quickly made highly accessible, largely thanks to the Empress Eugenie, wife of Napoleon III of France who found that the colour matched the colour of her eyes and wanted a wardrobe to reflect this. Originally called 'Tyrian' purple by its young British inventor, it was soon labelled mauve by the French, after their name for the mallow plant. Perkin soon used the name mauveine since the French were admired for their sense of fashion and good taste and this provided an invaluable 'French touch'. Indeed, Mauve Mania was born...
Until the middle of the century cloth had generally been dyed using plant extracts, however the colours obtained were neither vivid nor long-lasting. The accidental discovery of the 18-year-old William Perkin in 1856 transformed the dyeing industry with the introduction of artifcial colour to be manufactured on industrial scale. This was far from Perkin's origin aim, which was medical rather than aesthetic as it was in seeking to create artificial quinine as a cure for the malaria devastating the British troops in India that the young man stumbled across his revolutionary dye. The dark, oily substance, aniline, that Perkin produced during experimentation on coal tar stained his clothing a resilient purple colour and soon led him to patent the production process and set up a factory in London to manufacture the newly-discovered synthetic dye. The capital was soon taken over by mauve mania, with Charles Dickens commenting on it as he observed mauve garments and accessories worn by those "flying countryward, like so many migrating birds of purple paradise".
Although mauve was to become the acceptable colour for the transitional period of mourning (ie. the last six months of a two-year stretch), influenced by Queen Victoria herself, it was the symbol of opulence and as such was later associated with things rather louche and perhaps of free morals. In the Portrait of Dorian Grey, Oscar Wilde wrote, "Never trust a woman who wears mauve.... Whatever her age be...it always means they have history". No wonder I love mauve! Curiously, to describe an individual as 'mauviette' in French means that you find that person cowardly, spineless & lacking in character - 'yellow' - in short!
'Purple' seems to be a very general colour description since in reality one person's concept of this seems to differ greatly to another's, apparently due to the differences in retinal sensitivity in the human eye to red and blue light. Purple can therefore include a somewhat wide range of colours, a hue between violet and red, and few people agree with what actually constitutes this. The names given to shades of 'purple' are lovely to simply read off... heliotrope, lilac, violet, pansy, lavender, orchid, mulberry & regalia are just a few.
Purple is wildly associated, historically speaking, with royalty and 'high office'. Certainly purple, deriving its name from Greek porphyra - the spiny murex whose secretions provided the dye, was only available to the very wealthy, from its very origins in classical antiquity.
It wasn't until the 19th century that the colour mauve was to be introduced to Victorian society, and quickly made highly accessible, largely thanks to the Empress Eugenie, wife of Napoleon III of France who found that the colour matched the colour of her eyes and wanted a wardrobe to reflect this. Originally called 'Tyrian' purple by its young British inventor, it was soon labelled mauve by the French, after their name for the mallow plant. Perkin soon used the name mauveine since the French were admired for their sense of fashion and good taste and this provided an invaluable 'French touch'. Indeed, Mauve Mania was born...
Until the middle of the century cloth had generally been dyed using plant extracts, however the colours obtained were neither vivid nor long-lasting. The accidental discovery of the 18-year-old William Perkin in 1856 transformed the dyeing industry with the introduction of artifcial colour to be manufactured on industrial scale. This was far from Perkin's origin aim, which was medical rather than aesthetic as it was in seeking to create artificial quinine as a cure for the malaria devastating the British troops in India that the young man stumbled across his revolutionary dye. The dark, oily substance, aniline, that Perkin produced during experimentation on coal tar stained his clothing a resilient purple colour and soon led him to patent the production process and set up a factory in London to manufacture the newly-discovered synthetic dye. The capital was soon taken over by mauve mania, with Charles Dickens commenting on it as he observed mauve garments and accessories worn by those "flying countryward, like so many migrating birds of purple paradise".
Although mauve was to become the acceptable colour for the transitional period of mourning (ie. the last six months of a two-year stretch), influenced by Queen Victoria herself, it was the symbol of opulence and as such was later associated with things rather louche and perhaps of free morals. In the Portrait of Dorian Grey, Oscar Wilde wrote, "Never trust a woman who wears mauve.... Whatever her age be...it always means they have history". No wonder I love mauve! Curiously, to describe an individual as 'mauviette' in French means that you find that person cowardly, spineless & lacking in character - 'yellow' - in short!
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Honeysuckle blond...
The honeysuckle is so dense this year that the weight of the leaves and flowers has broken the trellis, and the smell in the evening is incredible. The pale yellow of certain parts of the flower contrasts with the richer gold on this particular plant, but in fact there many variations in colour as 180 different varieties of honeysuckle exist, half of these are to be found in China.
The lawn in the garden is looking very green at present, so I couldn't understand why there were a few bleached 'scorch' marks upon it... Then I remembered that I had told the children to "just use the garden" while we were waiting for the plumber to do some vital repair work recently....
This reminded me of what I had once heard about the bleaching capacity of urine; both bleach and urine being strongly alkaline they are able to dissolve or distintegrate biological matter. Urine has apparently always had a key role in the dyeing & tanning industries (the Romans even imposed a urine tax in the 1st century A.D).
The legend of the noblewomen of Renaissance Venice going to great lengths in order to achieve the desired 'strawberry blond' or 'Venetian blond' hair colour has persisted, yet whether actual urine was used as the bleaching agent (elixir) is a little more difficult to ascertain. Although the elixir recipes differed in composition, they all contained tannic acid whose high ph level would strip the hair of its original colour. To accelerate the process, women would position themselves in direct sunlight, a procedure which took on the trappings of a ritual in 16th century Venice.Indeed, in La Serenissima, an altana, meaning a veranda or terrace, was built on the tiled roof between the characteristic high funnel chimneys (fumaioli) and often these altana would be extended beyond the edge of the roof. The women would wear specific garments for the bleaching procedure, namely a schiavonetto - a Dalmatian silk gown, while a solana, a light, broad-rimmed straw hat protected the wearer from the direct sunlight, yet the open top enabled the gentlewoman to spread the hair onto the rim to maximize the exposure to the sun. The ladyfolk dampened their tresses with elixir at regular intervals using a sponge attached to a long stick, meanwhile admiring themselves, chatting and observing those below. The woodcut above, by Cesare Vecellio, 1590 (British Library Board), portrays this particular pursuit of the Venetian ideal of beauty.
The Weird Faux de Verzy...
To make the most of the weather I went to visit the faux de Verzy yesterday, in a wood devoted mainly to this tree. The faux are a contorted, twisted variety of the beech tree, and the name comes from old French for this tree, and the latin word, fagus. While the largest concentration of these are here in the Champagne region of France, others are to be found in Hannover, Germany, and in Malmö, Sweden.
Indeed, this very specific beech tree grows to only a very maximum of 3-4 metres from the ground, and as it grows its branches twist and weld together to from a dense green parasol, or igloo form in summer, giving rise to rich names such as le faux parapluie, le faux de la tête de boeuf and le faux de la Demoiselle (in honour of Joan of Arc, said to have slept in the forest). A tree may produce long running branches (marcottes), just above the ground, which will then take root and grow into new trees whilst still attached to the 'parent'. Others have roots that then go up to the surface to develop into new trees. Meanwhile only 40% of actual seeds will go on to develop into the characteristic faux; whether this depends on the soil, water properties or climate remains to be established. The faux leave a beautiful, yet tortured structure in winter, when the forms appear at their most striking and stark without their folliage; Tolkien could have drawn inspiration here...
The cause of the unusual branch formation remains a mystery even today, and this is perhaps all the more intriguing since other varieties of tree can develop the same characteristics - the oak, the chestnut tree & the European hornbeam being other examples. Sometimes the faux will be entwined around another tree, creating a dramatic effect; in this case, the tree has grown around an oak. Not surprisingly, all kind of legends have surrounded the faux through the ages- it is said that the faux were sent as a divine punishment against the non-believers of Verzy...In the 6th century a certain Saint Basle came to Reims, having met the archbishop of Saint Remi and became a hermit living in a grotto in the forest of Verzy, ready to preach to the population of the area.
I can't wait to go back on a misty autumn day, or when the whole area is under a layer of snow in winter...
Indeed, this very specific beech tree grows to only a very maximum of 3-4 metres from the ground, and as it grows its branches twist and weld together to from a dense green parasol, or igloo form in summer, giving rise to rich names such as le faux parapluie, le faux de la tête de boeuf and le faux de la Demoiselle (in honour of Joan of Arc, said to have slept in the forest). A tree may produce long running branches (marcottes), just above the ground, which will then take root and grow into new trees whilst still attached to the 'parent'. Others have roots that then go up to the surface to develop into new trees. Meanwhile only 40% of actual seeds will go on to develop into the characteristic faux; whether this depends on the soil, water properties or climate remains to be established. The faux leave a beautiful, yet tortured structure in winter, when the forms appear at their most striking and stark without their folliage; Tolkien could have drawn inspiration here...
I can't wait to go back on a misty autumn day, or when the whole area is under a layer of snow in winter...
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Pieces of glass; blue, red, green and gold to welcome you....
You can see Joni Mitchell singing it on the following link...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5DYLYHlKvk
Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning and the first thing that I heard,
Was a song outside my window, and the traffic wrote the words,
It came up a-reeling up like Christmas bells, and rapping like pipes and drums.
Oh, won't you stay
We'll put on the day,
And we'll wear it till the night comes.
Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning and the first thing that I saw,
Was the sun through yellow curtains,
And a rainbow on the wall,
Blue, red, green and gold to welcome you,
Crimson crystal beads to beckon.
Oh won't you stay
And we'll put on the day,
There's a sun show every second
Now the curtain opens on a portrait of today,
And the streets are paved with passersby,
And pigeons fly,
And papers lie,
Waiting to blow away.
Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning and the first thing that I knew,
There was milk and toast and honey,
And a bowl of oranges too,
And stuck to all my senses.
Oh, won't you stay,
We'll put on the day,
And we'll talk in present tenses.
When the curtain closes and the rainbow runs away,
I'll bring you incense owls by night,
By candlelight,
By jewel-light,
If only you will stay.
Pretty baby, won't you,
Wake up, it's a Chelsea morning.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Pansies, poppies and porridge...
Woke up this morning to see that summer is finally here - the light has changed and so has temperature - dramatically! From my kitchen table I could see the turtle dove still brooding on the nest just outside the door, the honeysuckle on the far wall and my toast and porridge right next to me - with some pansies from the garden.
Pansies are such happy, resilient plants even surviving snowy conditions - these ones endured the cold winter months, and are only now starting to get long and leggy. They still smell beautiful, however, showing how they belong to the viola family and are, in fact sometimes known as the pansy violet.
"There's rosemary that's for remembrance,
And there is pansies,
That's for thoughts."
Alice in Through the Looking Glass was astounded to hear the tiger lily speaking, "And can all flowers talk?". Throughout the ages, the language of flowers has had great importance. Indeed, although generally associated with the Victorian fashion for exchanging sentiments through an elaborate and sometimes complicated floral 'code' - the language of flowers is said to have its origins in Persia and Turkey. In Paris, a the beginning of the 19th century, a certain Charlotte de la Tour wrote a flower dictionary, 'Le langage des Fleurs'. This contributed to the later fashion wherein the variety of flower selected, its colour, number of flowers used, arrangement and association with other blooms would convey a precise amourous message.
Posies, called 'tussie-mussies' were often used, although their use was often of a practical nature since their perfume could ward off unpleasant smells and the herbs frequently employed were thought to combat airborne illnesses.....
I prefer to just think of the amourous messages, especially on a day like this, with the smell of the honeysuckle all around - what a pity I can't put that on my blog!!!
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