Monday, June 5, 2017

Memories of May

" I would give you some violets . . ."  Shakespeare

Where did it go, that magical month of May, dancing on, carrying me on a happy journey of fragrance,  progressing from one scent to another, leaving me to wonder how one month can hold so much beauty and pleasure.

I meant to write this blog as it was happening, but I was much too involved in the glory of it all, so instead I'll try to remember it while it is all still fresh in my memory. 

It all began with fanciful pots of Easter Lilies, adding their sweet scent inside my house. It only takes one!

Delicate petals of softly scented Violas and Pansies provided a fragrant bed for an Easter egg.

As May Day arrived, the air outside my back door was infused with the heavenly perfume of Lily of the valley. Stepping out in the early morning for a deep breath became an exquisite ritual.

This wild yellow "Canary" rose (rosa xanthina), is the first rose to bloom in my garden, opening it's golden petals to embrace the statue of St Elizabeth. I couldnt resist burying my nose in the honey-scented blossoms.

Hyacinth, short and stout, the waxy blooms infused with a fragrance that no candle or perfume can capture completely. 

The first Peony, a tree peony with blossoms as big as a dinner plate, appeared like a surprise ghost beneath the euonymous tree, with a brief but beautiful bloom time.

The lovely lilacs were next, perfuming the air outside with their unforgetable fragrance, and providing armfuls  of bouquets.

Bridal wreath, cascading fountains of intense fragrance, just like the ones that surrounded my grandmother's front porch.

The first Rugosa rose, fragrance so enticing, just waiting for the bees to visit.

This iris, like palest blush silk, with a unique perfume that rivals the most famous formulas of the perfumer's world.

The fat buds on the peony bushes slowly unfurl and add their honey scented perfume to the garden's medly.  

Mock Orange blossoms, so thick and fragrant the branches bow beneath their weight.

A crown of May Flowers for my resident garden sprite, with beauty as fragile and fleeting as the pleasures of childhood

So farewell to May, a month like no other, with memories to make me forever grateful, forever glad.