Long as there’s a sun that sets, Primroses will have their glory – Wordsworth
Although there were plenty of daffodils in bloom in the garden for St David’s Day this week, it’s the primroses that I love to see in March. We have a patch under a hazel along with bluebells, cowslips and grape hyacinths. They bloom well for a couple of months before the canopy of the hazel develops, bringing cheer to shady parts of the garden. Edible plants, you can pick them to garnish a cake or a spring salad – they taste like lettuce. All of the primroses I have in the garden have developed from some plants dug up by a friend. They spread prolifically. I’ll be sharing the love with my neighbours soon, so that they don’t take over.
Primroses were prized plants in days of yore by those who made their own cures and potions, being useful as remedies for muscle aches, rheumatism, paralysis, jaundice and gout. Combined with beeswax it makes a salve for burns or an ointment for treating spots and wrinkles (useful) and it’s even been made into a tea to treat insomnia (not necessary as I’m always shattered when my head hits the pillow). The leaves and flowers of the plant can be used both fresh and dried. Roots were only used when dried, and a special infusion of the roots was used to treat headaches.
I wasn’t at all surprised to learn primroses were considered sacred by the Celts, who carried them to ward off evil spirits. They thought primroses held the keys to heaven. Another old superstition claimed if you ate the blossoms of a primrose you would see a fairy and large patches of primroses were portals into the ‘faerie realms’. They are traditionally associated with Easter in Britain although the my Irish ancestors were just as likely to link them with Beltane (May Day), using them to decorate the threshold but never bringing them inside if the hens were laying or hatching eggs indoors.
Whatever you believe, primroses are true harbingers of Spring. It may be bitterly cold outside today but when the sun shines and you’re out and about you can feel that the season has turned. The annual weeds have sprouted; there are leaf buds aplenty and with a rug slung over my shoulders or across my knees I can enjoy a mug of coffee in the garden.