International Women’s Day is held on March 8
th
every year. International it may be, but
to be honest I’d never heard of it before arriving in Italy and spending my first March
8
th here. I remember going to
the little supermarket round the corner from where we lived in Rome (
same place as I’d mistakenly asked for 50 rolls at Xmas), and being greeted
enthusiastically by the cheerful shop manager.
He gabbled on merrily about something to do with women (I’d no idea
what) and picked a little box off a pile beside him and pressed it into the
palm of my hand. I thought at first he was trying to sell me something but he
began curling my fingers round the box indicating it was for me to keep while
nodding encouragingly.
I noticed other
women being given these boxes too, and as no one called the police as I left
the shop, I assumed it was safe to take it back home. On opening it I found a
small china blue and white duck. Having
no idea at all of the significance of the gift, I called Vito, who was equally
surprised. Not that I had received a gift,
which according to Vito was totally in order.
It was the fact it was a blue and white
duck that surprised him. He told me Mimosa
is what women are
traditionally given, and they also wear a sprig on their lapel on that day.
It is also customary in Italy for women to go
out together in the evening to celebrate their day. Well I’d certainly be happy to receive Mimosa
whenever anyone wanted to give me any, never mind on March 8th. Mimosa has always been one of my favourite
flowers, even when in the UK.
Every year
I used to buy myself some in springtime even though the delicate flowers fell
almost as soon as I got them home. Not
only that but the bunch, if you could call it that as it usually only consisted
of three small twigs, cost an exorbitant amount of money too. However the scent made it worth the
extravagance as far as I was concerned. I
love the scent of Mimosa. One major
pleasant surprise on coming to Rome was the realization that Mimosa grew on
huge trees of all shapes and sizes
 |
| Mimosa trees come in all shapes |
 |
| and sizes |
that are covered in tiny canary yellow furry baubles grouped on
proper branches, and not as I’d always believed on flimsy twigs. Not only that the flowers last for the best
part of a week or two before dropping to the ground.
There were plenty of the trees growing round
about, and if you didn’t happen to have a tree growing anywhere near you from
which you could cut some flowers, you didn’t need to take out a second mortgage
to buy some. I remember treating myself
at a local flower stall for 20,000 lira (that’s around 10 Euro today) to huge
bunches that filled my two biggest vases (which are by no means small), as well
as a couple of buckets commandeered in for the same service. The smell in the house for over a week was
simply divine. Just as
bignè mark the first
period after Christmas here for me, so too do the mimosa trees bursting into flower. The strange thing about the mimosa
is that during the rest of the year, the trees are so terribly
nondescript. Downright boring in their
ordinariness, you never notice them until February when the flowers start to
open on warm sunny days, and suddenly you find yourself needing sunglasses in
some areas, so bright are the blooms. Places
are suddenly transformed,
 |
| Building sites are transformed |
building sites unexpectedly start to smell like perfumeries
and not oil depots, and places you’ve never noticed before suddenly become
highlighted. Hidden castles appear out of the blue, rising
 |
| Hidden castles suddenly emerge |
out of 100-year
sleeping forests, and forests some of them truly are.
 |
| Forests of mimosa |
To feel the warm sun on your face and breathe
in the wonderful fragrance wafting on the air, to see thousands of delicate
downy,
 |
| Delicate downy flowers |
fuzzy, sunny flowers in front of you is for me, one of life’s greatest
pleasures. So as a present for all the
lovely women in my life, especially if they are not familiar with the magnificent Mimosa tree, as well as any other ladies who happen to be reading this, I thought I'd take some photos for you all for International Women's Day so you can enjoy it too. For each and every one of you who has spent time with
me, taken time to smile at me, encourage me, laugh with me, commiserate with
me, celebrate with me, dance on life’s huge dance floor with me, whether for
seconds or over the course of years, and not least of all those who have loved me and still do, these pictures which I've taken over the past few weeks are to
say thank you to all of you. Here’s to
you ladies, on our special day.
May you enjoy mimosa in all its forms, floral or
liquid J and "
tango on”
J
“To us”, ladies! Tanti Auguri!!!!!!!
