Lilac Time

It's that time of year when my yard turns green and the lilacs open and scent the air.
Growing up in Wisconsin surrounded by lilacs of every shade, it has become my first and foremost most favorite flower.
Did you know lilacs mean "first emotions of love"? For me, it's a very emotional flower, taking me back to my childhood when my Grandma on the farm had huge lilacs around the house and my Mom waited every year for hers to bloom so she could bring in big handfuls to fill the old, pale green vase with them for the dining room table.

It is such a treat to be able to plant, grow and cut my own lilacs now, from my own yard, and bring them into the house. Everything smells so sweet. Even my kitties sit with their tiny noses deep into the bouquets - although I don't kid myself - I think they are more interested in drinking the water.

I have tried to capture my feelings about lilacs in poetry over the years but I have to face the facts - I'm a lousy poet! So I'll let Robert Burns do the talking.

"O were my Love yon lilac fair,
Wi' purple blossoms to the spring.
And I a bird to shelter there,
When wearied on my little wing;
How I wad mourn when it was torn
By autumn wild and winter rude!
But I wad sing on wanton wing
When youthfu' May its bloom renew'd.