Inhale serenity

When the lilacs come out to play

Perfume of honey

Cascading tubular bells

Welcome back, my friend

My garden has lilac bushes, front, side and centre. I find their fragrance intoxicating. I love the formation of the flower petals, in abundant community. If I walk down a street, I know there is a lilac bush nearby before I see it. Once discovered, if I can reach it, I borrow the fragrance to put a spring in my step.

I had my first lilac bush as a child, situated at the white, wooden gate that brushed past it on entering and leaving the property. It was just another untrimmed, uncared for green bush to me for most of the year, but for two weeks, in mid-spring, it turned into the most amazing smell and sight that made me want to garden for the rest of my life.

Part of the olive family, lilacs come in a range of colours, the one true to its name that is actually lilac coloured is Syringa Vulgaris or common lilac. I have one of these, it takes pride of place in a side border. It was raised from a cutting given to me by my father in law, a lovely person who loved his garden. I remember him fondly every year as the flowers emerge.

I have several pink varieties, and have had them for so long, I am not sure of their botanical name. The one above has grown into a tall shrub and I have noticed people stopping as they pass by to take in its heady scent. I also have two, small, standard, pink lilacs that are in pots just outside my lounge window. If the window is open, their fragrance wafts into the house, filling it with that distinctive sweet smell.

These lilacs are important for another reason. I chose them to be the resting place for the ashes of my beloved dogs. They loved the garden, where we spent many hours together. It seemed fitting that they came to rest here too, the pair of lilacs a reminder of their beauty, strength of character and close companionship they offered each other.

My latest lilac acquisitions are two white varieties. In the garden centre their flowers covered the plant, so that the leaves could barely be seen. I had high hopes for these two and planted them near my seating area in the garden so that I could sip coffee and take in their pungent fragrance whilst I rested.

For the first few years one of them, in particular, replicated the white, fluffy, ice cream smelling blooms I had witnessed prior to purchase. The other one has never flowered in my garden, the leaves and branches healthy but not a bloom in sight. This year there is not a flower bud on either of them, which is disappointing. I’m hoping they are just late developers after the mild winter and dry spring we have had. If they don’t flower, I am going to need an expert to help me bring them to their full potential again.

Once the lilacs are here, I can relax. The worst of the icy weather is over, new blooms are popping open every day and the air is filled with anticipation, summer is just around the corner. Late spring is definitely my favourite time of the year, lilacs, of any colour, are one of my favourite garden plants. All is well!

Something to respond to here, if you wish, or perhaps journal about in your own time.

I am curious:

What is your favourite flower fragrance?

What plants remind you of others?

What gardening disappointment have you encountered, how did you resolve this?

Remembering

Arthur (1920-2010)

Varney (2006-2022) and Ewan (2008-2022).

Life just isn’t the same without you all.