I spent this morning picking lilacs on a building site on my street. A new kindergarten is being built beside the school, on a plot of land that until last summer featured a beautiful but derelict white wooden house, an apple orchard and lilac bushes as big as houses.
The old white wooden house was torn down last summer. It was terribly sad.
I wish I had taken a picture of it before it vanished into thin air.
Lilacs spread willingly, and tomorrow I am going to see if I can dig out a young part of one the enormous bushes to take home with me, before the building work starts again and they all get torn down. The only problem is that the bush is old, and huge. The roots are enormous. I don’t think that I will find a little baby lilac amongst the rubble that is suitable for transplanting. Let’s see. I can always go to a garden centre.
The problem is that I want one exactly like the one in these pictures. I am sitting downstairs as I write this, and I can smell its heady scent all the way from the upstairs living room.
Wish me luck, you guys.
I am completely smitten.