Thursday, April 28, 2011
Lilacs and Wisteria
When I was studying at Rutgers many years ago, I developed a deep appreciation for the writing of William Faulkner. His books, in particular, are so bound up in his own cultural influences that you cannot separate the South from the tales he tells. One of the leitmotifs woven throughout the fabric of his corpus is wisteria. It's heady perfume. It's graceful drape. It's southern ubiquity.
Imagine my complete delight when I discovered yesterday that along with the honeysuckle that blankets the fence between us and the corner neighbor is a new wisteria vine. I spotted three delicate purple flowers draped along the foliage, and I couldn't help but inhale the delicate fragrance, so like lilacs but without the overwhelming pungency that clings to the back of your nose after a whiff. Where it can from is anyone's guess. There's a beautiful wisteria vine creeping around a trellis at the opposite end of our street, but I don't know of another one that close. I can only imagine it is the work of the birds, bees, and the wind.
My lilac bush is in full bloom. The flowers are a soft shade of purple and the smell is simply divine.
I couldn't help myself. I immediately got out the scissors and took some clipping inside.
Now my whole kitchen has the faintest tinge of lilac perfume.
The peonies are about to open as well. I have at least 6 or 7 gorgeous buds about to burst open.
You can be sure some of them will also be coming inside. I think clipping flowers out of your own garden is one of the happiest things you can do.
Bringing the beauty indoors.