Lilacs

Well, Friends, it's that time of year that always marks the start of true Spring for me. Out front there are rows and rows of 10 foot tall lilac bushes that sprout their pretty flowers but once a year. That time of year has come.
When my Grandmother was a little girl she planted but one bush outside her house. From this one bush, hundreds have appeared, making a veritable wall separating her house from the road, Making her home a haven that cannot be spotted by the passing motorist.
The Lilacs, to me, bring a sign that the snowy/muddy/icy conditions may well give us a break for a while, but I have to admit there have been many years that old Jack Frost nipped off the lilacs blooms before they even had a chance. After the winter we just had I am in awe that the lilacs were even given a chance. The worst winter in the century and it farted out real looser like. I'm OK with that.
When I see the purple blooms of the lilac, I am reminded of my childhood, when we live with my invalid Grandmother. She used to keep spectacular gardens and when she became ill, she was never able to work in her flowers again. There are still remnants of her legacy scattered over the property. Rose bushes bloom, daffodils and lily's and even a blue berry bush that my mother says never bloomed while my Grandmother was alive. The bush now provides gallons of fruit every year that is shared by my neighbors and whoever happens to like blue berries.
At this special time of year I like to celebrate the lilac, who only shows it face for such a short time, but graces us with the sweetest smell on earth.