A walk in the Panovec Forest

Sometimes we can find beautiful and gorgeous places just in our backyard. 

Last weekend we went for a walk in the Panovec Forest.

Panovec is very close to the centre of Nova Gorica and it is quite a nice recreational area. You can work out there thanks to some equipment you find and you also can go cycling, jogging and running since there are different tracks. And of course you can have wonderful walks in the woods.

The forest is interesting because it offers a great diversity of flora and it is also really important to local people: in 1985 it was declared as Natural Monument.

As for the flora, we saw a carpet of crocuses, both blue and white, which gave a joyful colour to the underwood. 

According to classical mythology, Crocus was a mortal boy who fell in love with a nymph. His love was unhappy and the gods turned him into the plant which bears his name.

There is also another variation of the myth according to which Crocus was killed by Hermes in an accident during a game of discus. Hermes was so desperate that he turned the body of the young victim into a flower.

Whatever the story, I think crocuses are delightful to see even because they throw a shade of colour to the wood which is still wearing its winter clothes.

Here and there there were also primroses, which prefer hidden spots and grow on the edge of the path instead of open spaces.

In Latin the name of this shy flower is primula, just like in Italian and the name comes from primum which stands for first and it refers to the fact that primroses are among the first flowers to appear in spring. Its English name, primrose, means more or less the same since it comes again from Latin and stands for prima rosa, first rose.

A remarkable aspect of the forest is the variety of plants in its understory. At first there are crocuses and other small flowers, then while you climb the hill a bit you meet a lot of butcher’s broom and holly, and finally you can see a lot of small fir trees.

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And you can see the primroses

At the beginning of January

And on the butcher's broom

Red balls

Hanging

Like on a Christmas Tree

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(Celso Macor)