I’ve said that I didn’t do any gardening last year, and that’s not entirely true. I planted one thing: this lilac.
This lilac came from our first house. It had lived for six years in the flower garden Matt and I made in the front yard. It never bloomed. It didn’t really grow very much. But I nursed it along because this plant is another one of my special treasures.
This lilac was a shoot that I transplanted from a beautiful bush my grandmother had growing in her backyard. She was always very proud of her lilac and its prolific double blossoms. A few of the grandchildren took shoots to plant in their own gardens.
Last spring as we sold our first house and moved to the farm, I carefully dug up the lilac, cleared a space in the overgrown garden at the front of the house and transplanted it.
Over the past year, it has finally started to thrive. It’s grown taller and bushier. And for the first time ever, it’s blooming.
This is a banner year for lilacs at the farm and it turns out we have lots: a large bush outside our bedroom window, others scattered around the gardens, a hedge stretching nearly from the house to the pond. However, this, our smallest plant, is my favourite.