Remember Professor Pomona Sprout from Harry Potter’s Hogwarts school? Well, here is the real Pomona, a wood nymph from the Roman myths.
Pomona was a wood nymph, the goddess of orchards and fruit trees. She loved to wander about her garden.
Not for her the forests and the riverside where all nymphs loved to dwell. Armed with a pruning knife or a spade, she would tend to her fruit trees which bore apples, pears, and cherries. An errant branch was cut, the soil loosened, a twig grafted with her expert hands. Sometimes she led the streams to her thirsty plants but never ventured very far.
Occasionally, her sister Flora visited to spread the spring shine on her plants. But mostly Pomona kept her garden door shut for she did not want visitors. But our lonely garden goddess was a beautiful maiden despite her dull brown dress and the wreath of leaves around her head.
Pomona grew prettier every day and warily watched out for Venus, the goddess of love and her machinations. She shuddered at the thought of love.
Silvanus, the god of the woodlands, was smitten by her beauty and tried to woo her. Wearing a hunter’s robe, he came to her, hoping to impress her with his bravery but Pomona fled at the very sight of him. Not one to give up, he came again, this time in a shepherd’s garb, but terrified Pomona hid in her orchard until he left. Next came Picus, the god of the grain fields, who knew how to sweet talk any pretty nymph. He was spurned by Pomona who firmly closed her orchard gate shut as she saw him approach.
She started building a wall around her orchard so that no one would disturb her. This was when Vetrumnus, the god of changing seasons, saw her.
What exquisite beauty, thought young Vetrumnus and it was love at first sight for him. He had seen old Silvanus and Picus seek her affections and fail. A god of the changing seasons, he could transform himself at will. He approached the orchard gates dressed as a reaper, carrying a sheaf of corn as offering. “Go away! I don’t need any corn,” said Pomona and did not let him in.
Next he appeared with an ox goad in his hand as if he had just unyoked his weary oxen after a hard day’s labour in the fields. Another day he appeared, carrying with him a ladder and offered to pluck the ripened apples. “Thank you, but no,” said Pomona firmly standing behind her gate. She knew it was the same handsome god who was so persistent.
Pomona had locked her heart and thrown away the key. And she intended it to remain that way. The trouble was, she was too beautiful. Vetrumnus was not going to give up for he knew he had never felt this way about any maiden. He had fallen in love for the first and the last time.
One day, as Pomona stood near her garden gate, she saw an old woman approach. She was wearing a headdress across her graying hair and hobbled along with the help of a staff. Pomona’s heart went out to the poor woman. “Come in and sit down a while,” she told the woman. “You look like you need to rest.”
Opening the gate, Pomona led the old lady under a tree, sat her down and brought her fresh apples. “Thank you, my dear. You are so kind,” said the woman. “Your garden is cool and refreshing, and your fruit are delicious! I’ve heard about you but you are more beautiful than I thought.” As she said this, the old woman suddenly rose and kissed Pomona.
Pomona found it strange. Although the woman was old, the kiss was... very strange. Pomona quickly moved away and kept her distance. The woman smiled at her. “A girl like you, so pretty and kind hearted, you should not be alone.”
The old woman slowly walked up to an elm tree. Pointing to the vine which clung to the tree, she told Pomona, “See this elm. Its value is enhanced because it supports the vine.” She touched the bunch of grapes on it. “These two, the vine and the elm, their lives are enriched because of each other. Learn from your beloved plants. You too need a companion.” Pomona remained silent.
The old woman was clearly not going to give up. “Why don’t you let me find you a match? I know that there are many who wish to woo you. That old man Silvanus... he chases every woman he sees despite his age. And Picus, he’s in love with a new maiden every day. But I know just the perfect suitor for you.” The old woman paused and looked at Pomona. She wasn’t getting angry or running away yet. That was a good sign.
“Young Verumnus… He can become anything you want him to be… He loves your orchard, your fruit and will tend your garden if you let him. But more than anything else he loves you, and only you... ” The woman clasped Pomona’s hands as she said this and her headdress fell away. As Pomona watched, the old wrinkled face changed before her eyes to reveal the handsome face of a young man. It was Verumnus, the shape shifter.
Pomona tried to loosen his grip and run but he held her firmly. “Pomona, you are the only one I will ever love...,” he said. Pomona looked at his earnest face and felt her heart melt.