There are so many lilac bushes here in southern Ohio that it is difficult to remember that these are by no means a native species. Lilacs first came to America with the colonists by way of England, and to England they came by way of Turkey. We have two very large lilac bushes here adorning either side of the front entry. There is a smaller bush at the back of the house that fights for its survival every year. Our dog Perry seems to admire the scent of lilac blooms that linger in the woody stems as he eats the poor thing every Spring. Sometime last summer I read that a lilac should never be trimmed back in the Fall. I was careful not to cut into what would be this Spring's blooms when I made a little more sunlight available to the ornamental herb garden on the southern side of the house. That bush is so large that it shades a good deal of ground on both the southern and eastern sides. Perhaps a little too quick to pat myself on the back, the promising blooms were hit by a deep freeze a few weeks back. I feared all was lost. Then almost overnight the purple specs burst forth all over the countryside and the lilac's perfume filled the air. I cannot walk out of the house without lingering near the blooms for just a few moments. Nearly every time I come face to face with a bumble bee who was gathering pollen well before I happened along. The flowers are positively alive with the busy humming of bees. I am rather certain that if I kept a few bee frames I would be able to detect lilac in their honey. Now that would be a special scented treat! For some unknown reason, I cannot bring myself to cut the blooms this year and bring them into the house. The picture above is from last year's bloom. Perhaps as the time draws near for the lilac to fade I will take some then, but for right now I love them exactly as they are. It has been a little warm here the last few days and I find myself a bit spiteful with the sun. There is nothing quite like opening a window under a lilac bush and allowing that scent to permeate everything in its wake. Sleeping under the heady scent of lilac is heavenly. Heat or no heat, those windows are going to be open tomorrow. As each day draws to a close I am aware that this gift cannot last forever. Luckily the peonies follow in the bloom cycle to cushion the disappointment. But right now, today, they are here- and they are most wonderful.