Oh my gosh! If my sister thinks I have an obsession with fabric, my daughter KNOWS I have an obsession with lilacs. I can't go on a drive this time of year without breaking out in raptures every time I see a bank of lilacs in bloom. "Oh look at those! You could bring in a huge bouquet every day and never put a dent in them!!!" That, of course, is my dream. A fresh armful of lilacs every day for the duration of their way too short blooming period. Sigh... I love spring. I LOVE lilacs - their gorgeous color and incredibly perfect scent! It's a stab in the heart when I start to see the brown tinge creep in as they start fading away.
When we moved into this old house there was one mangy white lilac plop in the middle of the back yard. All by itself dead center. It had probably been there for decades. I worked on improving it for years. I put flagstones around it. I mulched it. The poor white lilac looked better but was still spindly and the leaves got dusty and black on the edges. The blooms were weak. I tried spraying it. I pruned carefully. Nothing helped. Finally, my oldest son removed it one day with a shovel and an axe. It was a sad but necessary day. I couldn't watch.
Eventually I planted a new lilac.
I fell in love with it's tiny purple petals trimmed in white when I saw it in the nursery: "Sensation" lilac - a French hybrid.
Now it's grown enough that I can bring some bouquets into the house...
but not every day.
And every year, it never fails that there is one rebellious sprig on the bush that insists on being white. Probably the exception to the hybridization - the recessive sprig... or maybe it's the ghost of white lilacs past.