Flower: Gardenia

A lovely, full gardenia bloom

A lovely, full gardenia bloom

I’ve been feeling a little homesick lately, and that’s put me in mind of gardenias.  They are my maternal grandmother’s favorite flower, and she’s been trying to grow them up on her frigid mountain longer than I’ve been alive.  Some summers, she actually manages to get a bloom or two, and she drinks up its sweet scent like an alcoholic savors his last drink.  These past few years, I’ve been worried that her yearly bloom will be her last–and I think she’s been worrying too.  I hope that this summer we’ll be able to enjoy the flowers together again.

With as intoxicating as the gardenia’s scent is, you’d think you’d find it appear more in magic.  After all, rose and jasmine make an ample appearance–why not gardenia?

Well, I think the answer is almost certainly pragmatics.  Gardenia does not produce an essential oil, nor do the dried blossoms carry much scent.  There’s only a couple of ways to naturally preserve their heady notes:  enfleurage and maceration.  Both require a tremendous amount of flowers–more so even than essential oil distillation–and time.  The basic process in both entails adding fresh blossoms to a fat, allowing the scent to diffuse, straining out the spent botanicals, and then repeating the process with fresh blooms until the desired scent level is reached.  The resulting product is very expensive:  a mere 2 ml of gardenia enfleurage (about as much as a sample perfume vial from the department store) will set you back $50 at least.  (If you are interested in obtaining such a product, I recommend Victoire, Inc.)

The easiest way to incorporate gardenia into your magical practice is to grow the flowers fresh.  The dried petals can also obviously be used in magic–just be prepared to miss their smell.  You might also prepare yourself for a challenge:  gardenias are sensitive plants that can be difficult even for those with the greenest of thumbs.  They may be grown outdoors in hardiness zones 8-11; others will likely have to grow them indoors in containers.

If you are interested in using gardenias magically, Scott Cunningham notes that they’re about as femininely-aligned as it gets.  He lists their gender as feminine, their ruling planet as the moon, and their element as water as well as noting their powers lie in “love, peace, healing, and spirituality.”  More specifically he says that fresh blooms are to be put in sickrooms or on healing altars to encourage healing and to incorporate dried petals in healing incenses and other herbal mixtures.  Similarly, he says scattering dried gardenia in a room brings about peaceful vibrations, as can using it in a moon incense.  Obviously, they’re of great use in love work and to attract benevolent spirits in ritual; they also have a high spiritual vibration.

My own intuition on the matter is that gardenia can be used any time “social lubrication” is necessary.  It seems to give people a little bit better of a grasp on their own emotions, as well as to intuit those of others.  It can help people find a healthy, constructive common ground through that emotional leveling.  It helps with communication in that respect, but not a communication dependent upon words.

Gardenia Planting and Care
Leslie Rose

To plant a gardenia, first choose a planting location with high humidity, bright sunlight and low salt content in the soil. The pH of the soil should be below 7.0. If you cannot meet these qualifications outdoors or in the ground, gardenia will grow well in containers and in humid sun rooms.  Next, amend the soil (if planting in the ground) with peat moss or compost to improve drainage and nutrient capacity. Dig a hole in the ground as deep as the root ball and twice as wide. If planting in a container, fill the bottom of the container with soil formulated for container gardening, leaving enough room for the root ball to be inserted in the container.  Place the root ball in the hole. Fill in the space around the root ball with soil, while holding the plant steady. Gardenias don’t respond well to root disturbance; take great care to ensure that the roots are not injured during this process.  Water the plant deeply, then mulch around the base of the plant using wood chips or pine needles, leaving a 2- to 3-inch radius around the base of the plant free of mulch. If you are using a container, place it on a tray of wet pebbles to increase the humidity around the plant.

Once planted, you will need to water indoor gardenia on a regular schedule, once per week, and outdoor gardenia as often as needed to maintain an even level of moisture. Check outdoor soil frequently for moisture content, either with a moisture meter or by inserting your finger into the ground at a depth of 1 or 2 inches. Water outdoor plants more during periods of dry weather, and less during periods of wet weather. Water from below and avoid wetting leaves. Fertilize two times per year; once at the beginning of the spring and once at the beginning of the summer. Use an acid-loving fertilizer. If fertilizing a container plant, use a fertilizer formulated for container gardening.  Run a humidifier and move an indoor gardenia plant closer to a sun-exposed window during the winter. Check plants frequently and regularly for pest problems. Gardenia plants may become infested with spider mites, aphids, mealy bugs, scales and white flies. Use insecticide on an as-needed basis. Prune the gardenia with sharp pruning shears after the blooms fall from the plant. Cut away dead wood and reduce the plant to desired size.

Potions in Action: Rosatum and Violatium

Totally stole this image of homemade violatium from Inn at the Crossroads.

Totally stole this image of homemade violatium from Inn at the Crossroads.

Since I’m on the topic of violets, I thought today might be a good moment to discuss potion making with them.  One decent avenue might be trying your hand at making Violatium.

Basically, this is a beverage straight from Ancient Rome, and it is essentially just a wine infused with a quantity of fragrant violet petals (so only Viola odorata need apply if you want the beverage to taste floral instead of vegetal) and sweetened before serving with a measure of honey.  It is dead simple to make, and just requires several weeks of time to allow the brew to cold-infuse.  It was recently featured on the blog Inn at the Crossroads and its sister blog Game of Brews.  They report that the drink is “quirky” and its tasters described it as “a combination of vegetal, green, and like a cheap rose with floral overtones. A smidge of wildflower honey compliments the hint of violets quite nicely. Really, though, the big appeal is in the appearance and uniqueness.”  They also note that the next time they brew the drink, they plan to use only petals and to pick off all the green parts of the flowers, for they think the greens added some bitterness, and that they’d like to try mixing the honey at the start of the brewing instead of just before serving.

The drink Rosatum can be made simply by using rose petals for violets, as John Cordy Jeafferson describes in his book, A Book about the Table.  However, Jeafferson is quite the wine purist and does not think too highly of these brews, as you can see:

Rosatum and Violatium were in high esteem with Apician epicures.  The former drink was made thus.  Several bags (as many as possible) of dried rose petals were put into a cask, and covered with good wine.  The infusion having stood for seven days the rose leaves were firmly squeezed, so that the liquor might have every drop of their scented juice.  Another equally large supply of dried petals was then put into the cask and treated in the same way.  This process was repeated yet again; and when the wine had been completely loaded with roseate essence, the tincture was put away for use on highly festal occasions.  It would have been more properly thrown into the nearest sewer.  Violatium was made in the same manner, with petals of violets instead of petals of roses.  It is impossible that people who enjoyed such preparations, fit only for an apothecary’s shop, could appreciate the subtler excellences of the fermented grape.  (page 49)

To make either Rosatum or Violatium in smaller quantities than a cask, you can follow Game of Brews’s method:

  • 2 cups violet or rose blossoms, each picked 1 week apart.
  • 2 cups mild white wine (pinot grigio or chenin blanc should do)
  • honey, to taste

Strip blossoms from stems and remove any green parts. Fill 1 quart jar with 1 cup flowers, top off with wine, and allow to sit for a week.

Strain the liquid through a sieve, and return it to the jar. Add the second cup of flower petals, and allow to sit for 1-2 more weeks.

Stir in a bit of honey to taste, and serve room temperature, or as a palate cleanser between courses.  Be aware that violatium can have a mild laxative effect.

Flower: Violets and Pansies

Yesterday’s musing on African Violets got me to thinking about violets in general. The African Violet, Saintpaulia ionantha, is not a true violet–all of which have the genus name Viola–but it does look a lot like them with its heart-shaped leaves and flowers with two top lobes and three bottom lobes. Since so much of magical herbalism depends upon the appearance of plants (obviously their scents, edibility, and medicinal uses, too!), I figured that common violets would magically have a good bit in common with African violets.  When I turned to Scott Cunningham’s Encyclopedia, I was not disappointed:

Violet (Viola odorata):

Gender:  Feminine
Planet:  Venus
Element:  Water
Powers:  Protection, Luck, Love, Lust, Wishes, Peace, Healing
Magical Uses:  When the flowers are carried they offer protection against “wykked sperytis” and bring changes in luck and fortune.  Mixed with lavender, they are a powerful love stimulant and also arouse lust.  If you gather the first violet in the spring your dearest wish will be granted.  Ancient Greeks wore the violet to calm tempers and to induce sleep.  Violets fashioned into a chaplet and placed on the head cure headaches and dizziness, and the leaves worn in a green sachet help wounds to heal and prevent evil spirits from making the wounds worse.

The two violet groups share a lot of the big particulars, but the violet found in Europe has a lot more specific lore attached.  It did not escape my notice that Cunningham specifically called out only one member of the Viola genus in his Violet description:  Viola odorata, otherwise known as the violet species that held Victorian-era Europe in thrall.  Unlike every other violet species, Viola odorata has a scent, and a fairly beguiling one at that.  One perfumer describes it as “powdery, a little sweet, and decidedly sad.”  It shares a good deal of similarity with iris scents, particularly that of their tubers.  Interestingly,  a component in the scent numbs the receptors in your nose for several minutes. During that time, your sense of smell will be out-of-commission, so you won’t be able to smell anything at all, not even the violet.

Viola odorata is native to Europe and Asia, but has also been introduced to North America and Australasia. It is commonly known as wood violet, sweet violet, English violet, common violet, or garden violet.

Viola odorata is native to Europe and Asia, but has also been introduced to North America and Australia. It is commonly known as wood violet, sweet violet, English violet, common violet, or garden violet.

There’s ample lore surrounding this violet.  In ancient Greece, violets were said to be sprung from the tears of Io, a nymph Zeus turned into a white cow.  Only she could eat them, and they became known as “ion”.  Since the founder of Athens was also named Ion, the city became known as the “violet-crowned city” and violets became an emblem for Athens.  Violets were said to be among the flowers that tempted Persephone away from her nymph companions and allowed Hades to abduct her, and violets grew were Orpheus slept.  In Roman mythology, violets became associated with Venus.  She asked her son, Cupid, if she was more beautiful that a group of girls.  Cupid sided with the girls, and Venus quickly beat them black and blue and turned them into violets. Romanian culture holds that they are the remains of a little girl whose mother left her in the snow, which is why they bloom even when there is snow still on the ground.  English lore holds that Violet was the name of a girl that King Frost fell in love with.  His love for her thawed his heart and allowed spring to come.  King Frost allows Violet to return to her people every year in the form of this flower.

Medicinally, violets also have a long history.  They were frequently mentioned by Homer and Virgil, and Athenians used preparations made with violets to moderate anger, to procure sleep, and to comfort and strengthen the heart.  Pliny prescribes a liniment of violet root and vinegar for gout and disorder of the spleen, and (as Cunningham mentioned) states that a garland or chaplet of violets worn about the head will dispel the fumes of wine and prevent headache and dizziness. The ancient Britons used the flowers as a cosmetic, and in a Celtic poem they are recommended to be employed steeped in goats’ milk to increase female beauty, and in the Anglo-Saxon translation of the Herbarium of Apuleius (tenth century), the herb V. purpureum is recommended ‘for new wounds and eke for old’ and for ‘hardness of the maw.’  In Macer’s Herbal (tenth century) the Violet is among the many herbs which were considered powerful against ‘wykked sperytis.’  Askham’s Herbal says that if a person who cannot sleep for he is sick soaks his feet up to the ankles in a bath steeped with violets, which would then be bound to his temples after the bath, he will gain rest.

Today it is known that violets contain amounts of salicylic acid, the chief ingredient in aspirin, which accounts for its use in treating pains, fevers, and the heart.  Its roots can be used to prepare an emetic and a laxative, and its leaves can form a mucilaginous substance that has been used in treating colds.  Some herbcrafters have also used violets in treating skin infections and mastitis, and it has been used in the treatment of cancer tumors–particularly those of the colon, lung, and breast.

Viola sororia, known commonly as the Common Blue Violet, is native to eastern North America. It is also known by a number of common names including Common Meadow Violet, Purple Violet, Woolly Blue Violet, Hooded Violet and Wood Violet.

Viola sororia, known commonly as the Common Blue Violet, is native to eastern North America. It is also known by a number of common names including Common Meadow Violet, Purple Violet, Woolly Blue Violet, Hooded Violet and Wood Violet.

In America, the type of violet one is most likely to encounter is Viola sororia.  It has no scent, but–like most violets–is edible.  The leaves have a slight peppery flavor, which is more subtle in the flowers.  Ava Chin in her New York Times column Urban Forager notes that “the first time I ate a violet, it reminded me of what I thought the rain might taste like when I was a child”.   The Native Americans used violet poultices as analgesics and to clear skin infections, and infusions and decoctions for respiratory issues.  Constantine Samuel Rafinesque-Schmalt, in his book Medical Flora, a Manual of the Medical Botany of the United States of North America (1828–1830), wrote of Viola sororia being used by his American contemporaries for coughs, sore throats, and constipation.  Its preparations are very similar to that for Viola odorata, but–being scentless–has an entirely different taste altogether.

Viola_tricolor_001

Viola tricolor, known as heartsease, heart’s ease, heart’s delight, tickle-my-fancy, Jack-jump-up-and-kiss-me, come-and-cuddle-me, three faces in a hood, or love-in-idleness, is a common European wild flower. It has been introduced into North America, where it has spread widely and is known as the johnny-jump-up.

Finally, we come to heartsease, or Viola tricolor.  As with other violets, it has a history of use in pain relief treatment, heart treatment, and skin diseases as well as use in respiratory problems such as bronchitis, asthma, and cold symptoms.  It is also a diuretic leading to its use in treating rheumatism and cystitis.  It has its own standing in folklore, as any Shakespearean scholar can attest.  The bard mentioned Viola tricolor in Hamlet, when Ophelia says “There’s pansies, that’s for thoughts”. (This was before the cultivation of the modern garden pansy, and this Viola went by that name in France, and “pensée” meant “thought”.)  The flower is mentioned again in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. There, Oberon sends Puck to gather “a little western flower” that maidens call “love-in-idleness”. Oberon’s account is that he diverted an arrow from Cupid’s bow aimed at “a fair vestal, throned by the west” (supposedly Queen Elizabeth I) to fall upon the plant “before milk-white, now purple with love’s wound”.  The juice of the heartsease now, claims Oberon, “on sleeping eyelids laid, Will make or man or woman madly dote Upon the next live creature that it sees.”

The pansy enjoys a lot of non-Shakespearan folklore, too.  Pluck one of the upper petals, and your lover’s future can be foretold by counting the veins that run through it. Four veins means there’s hope; seven means forever in love; eight, a fickle lover; nine, a change of heart is on the horizon; and finally 11 (get your tissues out), an early death for the love of your life.

Should a pansy bloom in autumn, it was believed that a plague would soon follow. A pansy picked when dew is still fresh on its petals, it was believed, could cause the death of a loved one. If rain has been lacking, lore has it that if you pick a pansy, the clouds will soon open up. Dream of this tricolored beauty, and you can expect troubles to brew with a good friend.

A German legend professes the glorious fragrance of the first pansy and the people who traveled miles to take in its tantalizing scent. So many came that the grasses where the pansies grew became trampled, leaving no food for grazing cattle. The flower then turned its bloom to God and prayed for him to help the cows. God answered by taking away its fragrance and instead giving it a tricolor face. Thus today, the pansy has an adorable blossom and no scent.

Cunningham notes the following for Pansy:

Pansy (Viola tricolor)

Gender:  Feminine
Planet:  Saturn
Element:  Water
Powers:  Love, Rain Magic, Love Divination
Magical Uses:  Worn or carried, the pansy draws love.  It is also potent for love divinations.  Plant pansies in the shape of a heart; if they prosper, so too will your love.  A woman whose sailor-love goes to sea can ensure that he thinks of her by burying sea sand in the pansy bed and watering the flowers before sunrise.  If pansies are picked when dew is still on them, it will soon rain.

I have no idea why this violet species has a different planetary influence than blue violets, but it is pretty clear that no matter what, you can use a violet of any sort in workings that center around love.

Flower: African Violet

A classic African violet.

A classic African violet.

On a recent grocery-shopping trip, I found that my grocery store was giving away African violets.  It’s been a long time since I had one as my room at the co-op didn’t have a window conducive to growing house plants.  My room at here in Olympia, though, has 3 windows.  Since I’m pretty sure light won’t be an issue, I took the store up on their offer, brought home a handsome specimen, and promptly named him Maury.

It wasn’t terribly long after I installed Maury in a window under my Witch Ball that I got to wondering if there were any magical uses for African violets.  After all, it’s not like you come across “powdered violets of Africa” in too many spell formulae, so I did a little digging.  As it turns out, there is a brief entry for African violets in Cunningham’s Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs:

African Violet (Saintpaulia ionantha)
Gender:  Feminine
Planet:  Venus
Element:  Water
Powers:  Spirituality, Protection
Magical Uses:  The purple-colored flowers and plants are grown in the home to promote spirituality within it.  The plants are also slightly protective when grown.

Gerina Dunwich notes much the same in her book, The Wicca Garden, noting that “the African violet is used by Wiccans of all traditions as a protection amulet and to promote spirituality within the home.  It is also burned as a traditional herbal incense of the Spring Equinox Sabbat” (22).  However, I have to say that in my Gardnerian training I have yet to encounter the use of African violets at all, much less as a protection amulet or as an incense.  I don’t recommend collecting the leaves or flowers of the African violet and using them to make some sort of potion.  From what I’ve found online, it is not recommended to ingest any part of this flower.  I don’t see that a few dried flowers crushed and mixed with other herbs in an incense would be terribly detrimental to your health, though.  In my opinion, I think it’s probably best to grow the violets as a totemic reminder of one’s spirituality.  When you admire or tend them, it would be reinforcing to reflect upon your own spiritual path at that time.  They’re probably also great plants to use leading up to a Spring ritual or a dedication of one’s spirituality.  It would be easy enough to plant or re-pot one during ritual and charge it with conducive energy.

It’s easy to see where Cunningham came up with his correspondences for this plant.  It loves constant humidity and warm temperatures, so the elemental association with water is really obvious.  Its heart-shaped leaves definitely put one in mind of love, and Venus, and their velvety texture is very feminine.  Of course, their most common flower color is an arresting purple–mine is definitely on the blue end of purple–and we all know that this is the color of deep spirituality and universal energy.

My own violet, Maury.  I just set his plastic container in a larger pot filled a bit with pebbles and water for some humidity.  This is not a recommended pot for him, but it was a dollar and we'll see how he likes it.

My own violet, Maury. I just set his plastic container in a larger pot filled a bit with pebbles and water for some humidity. The orange pot is not a recommended pot for him, but it was a dollar and we’ll see how he likes it.  Godzilla is keeping him company.

Growing African Violets:

Though ‘self-watering’ pots are promoted for African violets, these plants actually prefer pots with ample drain holes that are shorter and wider than your typical flower pot.  They also like being a little root-bound, so don’t plant them in a large container for their size.  Place the plant in a north or east facing window.  African violets enjoy temperatures around 70˚F.  If temperatures in the window are colder than 65˚F at night, move the plant to a warmer location at night.  If temperatures exceed 80˚F, growth will be slowed.  African violets appreciate humidity, but do not like being wet.  When the top inch of the soil feels dry (roughly weekly), water the plant using room-temperature water.  If watering from the top, take care to not let water touch the leaves as they will spot.  If watering from the bottom, set the flower pot in a larger vessel of water until the top of the soil is damp, about 15-25 minutes.  Allow the plant to drain thoroughly before replacing it.  If the plant is typically watered from the bottom, water it from the top once every 4-6 weeks to help reduce salt accumulation on the soil surface.  Between waterings, keep the violet pot on a saucer at least 2 inches bigger in diameter than the top.  Fill the saucer with pebbles to elevate the violet, then fill the saucer with water, taking care that the water does not touch the pot.  Evaporating water from the saucer will help keep the violet humid.

For more detailed information, please consult the Purdue Department of Horticulture’s pamphlet on African violet care.

Flower: Lilac

It isn't spring until the lilacs are blooming!

I have three favorite flowers:  daisies, irises, and lilacs.  Daisies remind me of childhood and afternoons spent with my grandparents picking them in the fields near their house.  Irises are so visually beautiful, they take my breath away.  And lilacs…lilacs make me want to never stop breathing.  Nothing compares with the scent of lilacs.  I wait for them with great anticipation every spring, and I mourn the end of their blooms almost like I’d mourn a death of a relative.  When I own a home of my own, I will fill the yard with lilac bushes.

Happily for me, I’ll have some nicely magical ingredients at my hands if I do so.  According to Scott Cunningham’s Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs, Lilacs–in addition to being aligned with the feminine gender, the planet Venus, and the element water–are protective to the point of exorcism.  As he writes in his succinct entry, lilac “drives away evil where it is planted or strewn, and indeed in New England, lilacs were originally planted to keep evils from the property.  The flowers can be placed in a haunted house to help clear it.”

I think anything as strongly scented as lilacs are has the potential for use in exorcism, but the pleasant potential lilacs have is so appealing.  A fresh lilac bouquet would probably make a great springtime housewarming gift, and lilacs could be used in springtime “cast off the old and bring in the new” rituals very easily.

A lilac-crowned cupcake

Beyond the immediate blooming season, I suppose lilac blooms could be dried and preserved.  The flowers could be used in a potpourri or sachet, but they are also edible (though taste more bitter than their scent would let on).  Perhaps one could use their protective and exorcising qualities in a tisane.  Fresh blooms could probably be eaten with yogurt and granola or used in cake decoration.  They could also be sugared and thus kept for later edible uses; after all, sugared flowers can last several months, if they are done properly.  The scent could also be preserved in sugar, much in the same way vanilla sugar is made.  Basically, mix equal weights of clean, dry lilac blossoms and granulated sugar together, let them sit for a couple days, and then sift the blossoms out and store the sugar in an airtight container.  It would be vitally important to sift the blossoms out before they lose their color, otherwise the decaying plant matter would overpower the fragrance.  I think the process could be repeated with the sugar and new flowers, though, for a more intense sugar.

Lilac jelly could also be made, which has a whole host of possibilities.  One recipe involves 4 cups of lilac flowers, 3 cups boiling water, 1/2 tsp vanilla extract, 1/2 pack of pectin, 4 tablespoons lemon juice, and 1 cup sugar.  The flowers are put in a large jar, and the water poured over them and let to sit for 6 hours.  Then the flowers are strained out, squeezed, and discarded.  The infusion is poured into a large saucepan, the other ingredients added as directed on the pectin label, brought to a boil and boiled until the gel point is reached.  Then the jelly is poured into jars and sealed as recommended by current canning guidelines.

Growing Lilacs
AboutLilacs.com

Growing lilacs is a fun and easy activity for any gardener. Lilacs are relatively easy to care for, if the proper conditions are given. Most lilac plants require full sun, yet some will tolerate partial shade, at the expense of fewer and smaller blooms. Lilac plants also need a good amount of moisture in the soil to thrive, but standing water may cause rot. The best thing to do when growing lilac is to mulch heavily near the base of the plant. This will allow the soil to maintain moisture and also provide shade for the root system.

Growing lilacs should be done in a location with a good amount of soil drainage. While they are drought tolerant, growing lilac plants do need a good deal of moisture in order to thrive properly. They should be watered regularly to ensure that the soil is moist. Growing lilac shrubs can be done in areas all over the world, as there are lilacs that can thrive in zones from two to ten.

Another important aspect of growing lilacs is how and when to prune. Pruning lilacs differently will result in different bloom times and quantities. Lilacs should all be pruned as soon as the bloom period has ended. Pruning should consist of removing any spent blooms to increase the likelihood of more flowers the following year. The stems and branches of growing lilac bushes may also be cut back, as long as not more that one third of the plant is cut. Pruning more than this will reduce the amount of blooms the following year, and may even prevent blooms from appearing for up to four years.

Flower: Petunia

A hanging basket of fetching petunias

Just about every year, my mother plants hanging baskets, window boxes, or planters with at least some type of petunia.  Lately, she’s been making sure the hanging baskets off my grandmother’s fence  are stocked with purple ones.

I do not share my mother’s preference.  Petunias are beautiful, don’t get me wrong, and they last and last and last–so long as f the faded blooms are cut away, the flowers will blossom over and over again through the summer and well into the autumn.  But I just cannot get over the smell.  Most common petunia varieties smell like a squashed lady-bug to me:  kind of grassy and pleasant, but harsh and caustic, too.

This weird sort of love/hate relationship to petunias might be the cause of some contradictory lore.  For example, Victorian flower meanings would have had the petunia be a very bipolar flower depending on the source consulted or under the conditions the flower was gifted.  For example, in some contexts, a gift of petunias could represent haughtiness, resentment and anger over something the recipient has done.  If given to a loved one, their pleasant appearance means the recipient’s presence is soothing to the other person.

As far as I can tell, no one has really tried to make much use of petunias in magic.  I think that might be because they are just so mundane in our world today:  any fool can grow them, so they show up everywhere.  Certainly, they wouldn’t have the allure of mandrake.  However, maybe their Victorian versatility could carry over into magic?  I should probably experiment and meditate and see what correspondences call to me.  In the meantime, I think some intellectual investigation could set us off down a fairly solid path.

Today’s common garden petunias are often a hybrid (Petunia × hybrida) between P. axillaris (the large white or night-scented petunia) and P. integrifolia (the violet-flowered petunia.  They are cultivated genus of flowering plants of South American origin, and they are closely related with tobacco, cape gooseberries, tomatoes, deadly nightshades, potatoes and chili peppers.  In fact, their name comes from the an older French word for tobacco, petun, which was in turn taken from a Tupi-Guarani language.

Pretty pink petunias...with a 'pentagram' detail!

With the petunia’s relation to tobacco and nightshades, they could probably substitute for these plants to some level.  After all, as Cunningham notes in his Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs, datura and nightshade can substitute for tobacco, and both are related to it, too.  I’m not certain how efficacious petunia substitutes could be for these things; after all, petunias are basically non-toxic little guys and nightshade and tobacco got their magical clout based on how strongly they alter our perceptions.  It might be possible, though, to use petunias instead of nightshade as an offering to Bellona, or to use petunias for the protective qualities nightshades and tobacco share, or for the prosperity/protection/love qualities of tomatoes or the fidelity/curse breaking/love qualities of chili pepper.  I think the fidelity and prosperity connections could be particularly strong, given the profusion and constancy of the blooms.

Petunia Care
Marie Iannotti

Growing Notes: Petunias do best in full sun, but can handle partial shade, especially in hotter areas. They are very slow to grow from seed. If starting from seed, begin at least 10 to 12 weeks before planting out date. Petunia seed needs light to germinate, so don’t cover the seed. Sprinkle it on top of the soil and pat lightly, for good contact. They also prefer warmer temperatures for germination. Start the seeds on heating pads or on top of your refrigerator. Once the seed has germinated, move them from the warm area and let them grow on in the cooler temperatures.

Although petunias like cool weather, they are not frost tolerant. Wait until all danger of frost is past before planting your petunias outdoors.

When planting, pinch the seedling back to encourage more branching and a fuller plant. How far back to pinch depends on the plant. If it is a short, stocky seeding, just pinch and inch or less. If the seedling has gotten gangly, you can pinch back by half.

Petunias will tolerate a range of soil pH. They don’t like to be dry for long periods, but they also don’t like wet feet.

Maintenance: Older varieties of petunias require diligent deadheading or they will stop blooming. This is not always a pleasant task, since the foliage is sticky and blossoms that have been rained on turn to slimy mush.

Even the newer varieties that say they don’t require deadheading will benefit from a pinching or shearing mid-season. When the branches start to get long and you can see where all the previous flowers were along the stem, it’s time to cut them back and refresh the plant.

Monthly feeding or foliage feeding will give your petunias the energy to stay in bloom. But be judicious with water and make sure the soil is well drained. Too much water will cause the plants to become ‘leggy’, with lots of stem and few flowers.

Flower: Geranium

My new pot of geraniums

I’m not really sure what came over me, but on Beltane I was really struck with the urge to plant geraniums.  Big, red, in-your-face geraniums.  This is a novel moment in my life:  up until now, I actively eschewed geraniums because I don’t like their smell.  (I have the same problem with petunias.)  For whatever reason, though, I just had to get a nice pot of red zonal geraniums.

Zonal geraniums are the classic geranium, and red is its classic color.  As I learned later, though, there’s a lot that goes into a name.  “Zonal” here just means a geranium started from a cutting rather than by seed.  The “geranium” part, though, is much more confusing.  Scientifically, the geranium is not a geranium at all:  it belongs to the Pelargonium genus, which goes by the common names “storkbills” or “geraniums.”  There is also a scientific genus called Geranium, and its common name is the “cranesbills.”  Clearly, there are some botanical similarities between the two–indeed, Linnaeus originally classed both under the word “Geranium,” which lead to the verbal confusion today.  At any rate, the Pelargonium genus is the one magical practitioners call “geranium”, and my plant–Pelargonium x hortorum–along with other common pelargoniums (P. maculatum and P. odoratissimum, for example) share certain magical properties.

According to Scott Cunningham’s Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs, geraniums have a feminine gender, are ruled by the planet Venus and the element water, and have powers of fertility, health, love, and protection.  Cunningham notes that

Geraniums of all types are protective when grown in the garden or brought into the home freshly cut and placed into water.

The geranium protects against snakes, for: “Snakes will not go / Where geraniums grow.”

A plot of red geraniums, planted near the Witch’s cottage, told of coming visitors by their movements.  The flowers were magically charged to point to the direction of the approaching strangers and thus warn the Witch of their impending arrival.

Banks or pots of red geraniums are quite protective, and strengthen health.

Pink-flowered geraniums are used in love spells, while the white varieties increase fertility.

Curanderos in contemporary Mexico clans and heal patients by brushing them with red geraniums, together with fresh rue and pepper tree branches.

The rose geranium (Pelargonium gravolens) with its highly scented leaves, is used in protection sachets, or the fresh leaves are rubbed onto doorknobs and windows to protect them.

All of the scented geraniums have various magical properties, most of which can be deduced from the scent.  Nutmeg-scented geraniums possess much the same powers as nutmeg, and so on.

I noticed that the red geraniums got a special call out in this description.  They do seem to have an enduring folk connection to witches.  Ellen Dugan repeats as much in her book, Garden Witchery, in an anecdote describing helping an old woman out at a garden shop.  When Dugan had finished helping the woman load her garden purchases into her car, the woman turned to her and said:

When I was a girl, my grandmother always told me that you could spot the good witches in the neighborhood by the red geraniums in their window boxes. […] Another way to tell was to look and see if they planted red geraniums or red begonias in circles around their trees.  (94)

Maybe that was part of my geranium compulsion?  Maybe I could do with a little protection.  Maybe it was just the love and joy of Beltane calling to a like correspondence?  At any rate, I’m really enjoying my flowers.

Zonal Geranium Care
J.C. Wilkinson, April 2009

Planting:  Most zonal geraniums flower best in full sun, needing at least 6 hours of direct sunlight daily. If your summer temperatures reach over 90 degrees, you should plant our zonal geraniums in partial shade, or at least shaded from the hottest afternoon sun. While they will not bloom quite as well in partial shade, most varieties still grow vigorously and put forth satisfactory blooms.

Zonal geraniums love rich, well drained soil, especially with added compost. In pots, you should use a good container potting mix that holds water well. A mix with plenty of peat moss is good, but avoid a mix with too much vermiculite. A good homemade mixture is equal parts of peat moss, perlite, and composted manure.

Zonal geranium leaves seem to die and turn brown for no reason. Since they are susceptible to fungal disease, this can be a problem in humid climates. Deadheading and removing dead leaves will keep them looking their best, and keep them blooming all season.

Fertilizing and Watering:  Zonal geraniums are heavy feeders that need to be fed every two weeks with a balanced, water soluble fertilizer. You can also use time-release fertilizer that lasts the entire season. Feeding container-grown plants regularly is very important for best blooming.

The most important consideration in watering zonal geraniums is that they must be watered thoroughly, but allowed to dry out between waterings. They don’t like wet feet, but must be kept watered regularly during very hot summer weather. To check for soil moisture in container grown plants, stick your finger down to the second knuckle. If it’s dry, you need to water.

Overwintering:  You can move your zonal geraniums indoors for the winter, or take cuttings, which root easily. You can keep them dormant over the winter as well by taking them out of their pots, cutting them back by two thirds, removing the soil from the roots, and hanging them upside down in a cool, dry basement or cellar, and spraying their roots occasionally to keep them from getting too dry.