April 8: Spring Month

As the little crocus appears in our gardens, let’s talk about the boy who gave it its name. He wasn’t a prince or a hero for a change, just a village kid, who liked the outdoors. On one of his strolls, he met a creature of such incomparable beauty, he fell head over heels in love. Her name was Smilax and she was a dryad, or forest nymph. She liked his boyish charm and they enjoyed a few months of pure bliss. But before long, Crocus started to feel unconfortable. She was always there, always demanding his attention. He felt suffocated, and taken advantage of, as Smilax – being immortal – seemed intended to make the most of his youthful years. He tried the “It’s not you, it’s me”-approach, but Smilax didn’t take it well. She ran to the Olympos to complain about the humiliation she endured. The gods were shocked. And embarrassed. As usual, they punished the messenger as well as the offender. Smilax was changed in bindweed, still clingy as ever. And Crocus was turned into a saffron flower, holding valuable spice, but reluctant to open up.

Nymph, Mosaic, Musée St. Raymond, Toulouse, France

Nymph with Shell, statue, Musée du Louvre, Paris, France