Sweet memories…

The fragrant presence of Devon violets reminds Toby of bygone days and a violet trade that lifted people’s spirits

- Toby Buckland

WHEN I was an apprentice, one of my responsibilities was to lift, divide and replant the wiry stems of Devon violets for growing on.

I’d completely forgotten this pleasant task until, working through the base of a hedge, I caught some of the stems with a hoe, releasing the unmistakable earthy and dewy aroma into the air.

In an instant, I was transported back to my teenage self, remembering the feel of my woollen work gloves – which had removable fingers when dexterity was required – and the taste of the milky coffee my mum made for ‘smoko’, and I could almost hear the warble of the blackbird that always kept me company in that mist-filled field.