I didn’t know saffron came from crocuses until I sat down one evening in February in my mother’s cottage in Yorkshire, huddled up under the covers as bleak winter winds and rains battered against the window pane, and I took my second sip of wine. I was thinking about what had brought me hope that day and landed on the pretty brightly coloured blooms I had spotted along the path that runs behind the back of the house, one of the first places I go to hunt the early signs of Spring. Today, it was a bunch of purple, yellow and white crocuses, brave and vulnerable in the freezing air… But I have jumped forward 10 years. Let me tell you about the first time I felt a deep connection to these flowers, discovering them for the medicine they truly are after a day spent at my office job in London near Berkeley Square…
The leaves were turning golden brown and that wonderful smell of damp mustiness rose from the grass in earthy waves. Beauty is all around us and nowhere is this more true than in St James’s Park. Even I was surprised to see, though slightly battered by early September rain, a large scattering of what looked like crocuses.
As I wandered along the paths between the flower beds in a pencil skirt, black flats and a restrictive blazer, my throat suddenly tightened at their joyful shades standing out so candidly among the russet fallen tones of their surroundings. I felt my lungs expand in a sigh and my heart weighed heavy in my chest. I was searching for something. Anything to take away how I felt about working in an office for 8 hours a day, in an industry I didn’t believe in, stealing myself to pace up and down the spotless streets in Mayfair whilst fighting off panic attacks. Scarcely a month later, I would be diagnosed with my first clinical episode of depression, although it was, in fact, my second, and I would be prescribed Sertraline, which would make it worse. From that moment, I have always felt like these joyful flowers have something to tell me. I didn’t understand it then. But I do now.
Crocuses pioneer hope, a welcome sight when new blooms are few, such as late October and early February, for they symbolise brave, relentless beauty in the face of hardship, unafraid of the changing seasons of their lives ~ tempests, snow and frost do not deter them. They are determined and strong new life, when many others around them are dying back. The Crocus sativus, the Autumn-flowering crocus, courageously emerges from the soil without leaves to protect it and even produces a spice, saffron, from the female stigma that has been scientifically proven to help with depression.
Taken as a supplement, saffron works by regulating the chemicals in the brain, including serotonin, the neurotransmitter that also acts as a hormone, which can be severely affected in people suffering from depression. It has also been found to decrease anxiety and could help reduce the risk of cardiovascular disorders. An Australian study reported that 28 mg of saffron (but not 22 mg) was better than placebo at improving low mood in healthy adults.**
I took these pictures almost a decade after my first encounter, in the ruins of Kirkstall Abbey during a particularly desperate house search for my move to Leeds from London in 2022. I whispered a silent prayer that perhaps here was something that could guide me through the darkness and out into the light once more as they did all those years ago. I have often wished this of Mother Nature, and She has made it so.
If you are ever on the hunt for crocuses in Spring, look out for churchyards and old monastery gardens like these ones, where Easter Egg purple, white and yellow blooms were planted when they first came to England by monks in Medieval times. Other magical places to see them in February and March include the landscaped gardens at Ham House in London and The Crocus Lawn at Wallington in Northumberland, whilst Bateman’s in Sussex is the one to visit if it’s Autumn crocuses that take your fancy.
Crocuses in fact have a long and fruitful history here and now they are a familiar sight in this land. Saffron Walden for example is a Tudor village in Essex which gained its wealth, beautiful architecture and name from saffron cultivation in the 17th-18th centuries before the trade moved on. According to their website, the crocus hasn’t grown there again in centuries, but I am determined to go there and find one… maybe I’ll see you there.
Keep fighting the good fight, even if you feel like Spring will never come. It will ~ look out for the crocus, and this blessing won’t be the only one.
In Love&Light, FS XOX
** A gentle guideline: Saffron must be taken carefully. No amount of saffron should be taken over 5g as it can be toxic in these quantities and should definitely not be taken by pregnant women as it can induce early labour. As with all supplements, please consult with a medical practitioner before taking them.
A Daughter of Nyx 