Flower power in Switzerland

Imagining a photograph of Switzerland without a flowerbox on the side of a building is like imagining not being able to buy a Stetson in Texas, or like dreaming of being able to drive more than two kilometres in Johannesburg without having to queue behind a taxi that’s stopped to drop off a passenger.

Wondering about what purpose these flowerboxes serve is besides the point. They’re now part of the identity of what makes anything around the world look “Swiss” that removing them from the equation would have as negative an impact on the country’s branding as dropping a bomb on the Matterhorn.

Indeed, the village of New Glarus in Wisconsin in the US requires, in a municipal ordinance dealing with “Swiss Architectural Theme Requirements” (don’t snigger if you live in one of the 500 identical “Tuscan-style” developments in Fourways), that flowerboxes are included wherever second-floor windows are a feature. And the website TopBuildingContractors.com offers an article on “Finishing a Swiss chalet”, which begins with advice on measuring and making flowerboxes.

So you’ll be able to get your fill of happy snaps of flower-lined high-streets from a vantage point less than 10 metres from the train that brought you into the town or village you’re visiting.

Less appreciated is the way this same passion for petunias (or whatever other bedding plant will provide eye-catching colour without growing so tall that it blocks the window) is expressed elsewhere. A stark eye-opener is the cemetery in the resort town of Zermatt, which is more visually vibrant than your average botanical garden.

It’s a strange thing, looking down one of the rows of tombstones, feeling that you should be sad and reflective, but finding that you are unable to mope because the place looks like its been decorated to celebrate something, not to lament what was and is gone. Those Swiss are onto something…