Spring In The Garden - October

My love for lilac knows no bounds…

I would go so far as to say it’s my desert island plant—I simply can’t live without it. The blossom is one thing, but to sink your nose into the blooms for pure fragrance, to fill bowls and vases in every room, and to walk down lilac-lined paths is to truly live well. For those who say it has such a short flowering period—could you really live on oysters or caviar for every single meal? Far better is the anticipation, the build-up to budding, and then the unfurling into the most heavenly blooms, making every day in between worth it. Add to that, they flower in the grimmest droughts, after the snowiest winters, and then turn butter-yellow as winter descends, carpeting the ground with their beautiful fallen leaves.

I’m not sure when my love affair with lilacs began, but perhaps it was during the drought to end all droughts when even the old buddleias gave up and died, yet the lilacs kept on keeping on. And so, using John Brookes’ maxim of ‘repeat, repeat, and repeat,’ I dug up suckers to create lilac walks and lilac hedges. However, like my other favorite plant, the snowberry, they tend to be more than a little promiscuous, so they can’t be left unsupervised for too long!

While searching my emails for a reference to my lilacs, I came across one from Paul Bangay after he stayed at Bobundara a number of years ago: “My big love and the whole reason I now have a lilac walk came from visiting the most romantic of all gardens on The Monaro plains. Wild and slightly overgrown, I saw the lilac as a walk I simply must have!”

So, if you have a hint of romance in your soul and the room and climate for a lilac walk, do it—you will be amply rewarded…

Trisha x