|The Lilac planted five years ago when my oldest son was married.|
Robert Frost reminds us that "something there is that doesn't love a wall" (or fence). I feel the same. The popular things now are the white, vinyl fences in their plastic shine. But they were the first things to go in the East Wind.
Why lilacs? So many reasons. They're an old-fashioned type of landscape. Pioneers grew them. Huge, old, lilacs are often found next to the old, stone houses of Davis County and pioneer homes throughout the Mormon Corridor. Whitman evidences us of 19th Century popularity, "When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd," a great homage to his fallen Captain, President Lincoln. The President was shot on a Good Friday, a national sacrifice for Union.
The Utah State University Extension Service gave me some ideas for a hedge. Their website suggested to plant bushes 3-6 feet apart. Hoping for a good barrier in the place of a fence, I went with just over three feet. They also said to plant a variety of lilacs as different varieties bloom at various times with different hues. Our standard syringa vulgaris planted five years ago, gave me a couple of shoots I transplanted. They're going through a bit of shock, but they look like they'll recover. I also bought a "Katherine Havermeyer" variety that has lavender-purple flowers that fade to pink.
|The lilac hedge - just give it five years.|
Then I saw a variety tagged "Evangeline." That's my granddaughter's rather unique and beautiful name! My wife said the find was inspired. I planted that one between the two starts from the lilac I planted for her mom and dad.
There's another reason I like lilacs so much - the old Primary song:
Whenever I hear the song of a bird
Or look at the blue, blue sky,
Whenever I feel the rain on my face
Or the wind as it rushes by,
Whenever I touch a velvet rose
Or walk by our lilac tree,
I'm glad that I live in this beautiful world
Heav'nly Father created for me.
On the way home, I was anxious to plant for Evangeline. Parsifal was still playing.
. . . die Wunde ist's, die nie sich schließen will . . .We are all wounded. We will all be healed. That's Good Friday.