The Scent of Spring (130/365)

May 10, 2015 – If there is a scent that screams spring to me, it’s the intoxicating scent of lilacs.

That heady fragrance tells me that it May.

When I was growing up we had a hedge of honeysuckle in the backyard and a couple of white lilac trees near the end of the honeysuckle. All of that was right outside my bedroom window. In the front yard we had a hedge of lilac bushes separating our yard from our neighbours.

And yet, even though I grew up with lilacs surrounding our home, the scent evokes memories not of Prince George, but of Canoe, a small community outside of Salmon Arm.

Both sets of grandparents lived there, but Granny was the lilac queen. At the old farm there was a massive lilac bush outside the window and I’d watch the hummingbirds flit around inside, but more wonderful, I’d watch them sit still in the branches. I got to drink the sight of magical creatures sitting inside a bush that was heady with fragrance. It was always a highlight of any spring visit.

When Granny and Grandad moved off the farm and down the road, their new home also had lilacs in the yard. Big bushes, incredible fragrance. So when I smell lilacs I think of Granny.

When Granny died my Aunt, Sue, bought a lilac bush and we planted it outside the small church across the road where Granny was so active. A few weeks ago a co-worker was going on a road trip and passing by Canoe. I went into nostalgia mode and took a virtual drive through the community on Google Street view. I paused at the church as was so happy to see that the lilac bush is still there and growing well.

I never thought I could grow a good smelling lilac in Vancouver. They usually need a good cold winter and we just don’t get that. But last year I found a small Korean hybrid that has been grafted on a standard and the scent was spectacular. I had to have that perfume in our yard, and when the breeze blew we could smell it all the way around the front yard.

I crossed my fingers over the winter and hoped that it would perform again, and it hasn’t disappointed.

When I bury my nose in the fragrant tiny blossoms the memories come flooding back.