I live in an area of the country lilacs love.
This time of year when I take my walks, it seems that every few yards I pass tall lilac bushes loaded with blossoms. Their fragrance hits me before I even see them; the aroma more beautiful than any man-made perfume possibly could be, and rich with a thousand memories.
Lest you think that lilacs are only one color or one shape, there’s actually a great deal of variety: white, light purple, darker purple, darkest purple, and even pink; feathery or plain; tall or short; early-blooming or late; powerfully-scented or delicate (here’s everything you might want to know about lilacs).
I used to own some lilac bushes, but right now I don’t. So I have to depend on the kindness of others. Yesterday I was walking past a friend’s house while she was in her yard, and she waved her hand at the many lilac bushes there and said I should cut some blooms. And so I did.
Lilacs don’t last long in vases—but then, they don’t last very long on bushes either. But they make wonderful, if ephemeral, additions to the table or counter or shelf. Here are mine—enjoy them, they may not last another day:
In the door-yard fronting an old farm-house, near the white-wash’d palings,
Stands the lilac bush, tall-growing, with heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
With many a pointed blossom, rising, delicate, with the perfume strong I love,
With every leaf a miracle……and from this bush in the door-yard,
With delicate-color’d blossoms, and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig, with its flower, I break.