This lilac bush has traveled far. My parents gave it to us 13 years ago when we returned to Canada. It was a small volunteer plant in their neighbourhood in the Okanagan. We brought it over the mountains and the ocean to our island.
Several times the plant found itself dug up and transplanted as we tried to figure out what to do with our yard. From the front to the back where it languished too close to the cedar hedge. More digging two years ago and now it flourishes in a sunny spot. We're hoping it continues to grow to provide shade for our patio.
More blooms inside, their beauty doubled by the mirror. I sit on the couch and have only to lift my eyes to admire them. Their scent is never overwhelming - a mere hint wafts about the room unless one stands sniffs closely.
We planted two more lilac bushes this weekend - volunteers collected along a pathway. Soon a mower will be chopping the remaining volunteers down, so we feel a little like we've saved these ones. They are small, but they will grow.
When lilacs bloom is a lovely time. To borrow and adapt from Anne of Green Gables - "I'm so glad I live in a world where there are lilacs."
I'll be linking up to Mosaic Monday, hosted by Judith of Lavender Cottage.