I was climbing the steep dirt road up behind the house, following the dog, mind off somewhere (probably volunteer fire department stuff) when I ran into a wall of lilac scent.
There it was — the survivor. A family from down in Rocky Ford used to have a cabin up there — really just a parked camping trailer with an addition. They planted a lilac bush on a southwest-facing slope behind it, and they must have picked just the right variety, in the late 1960s or whenever it was.
They stopped coming much after 1998, when the father died. Eventually the adult children sold us those acres, and one tough lilac bush.
Through drought years, blizzards, and total neglect the lilac prevails. This is one of the good years. Among the scent of sun-warmed ponderosa pine — pungent lilac.
1 comment:
Jess and I have a lilac that was left for dead in its pot from Home Depot; when we discovered it still clinging to life after a full year of utter neglect, we put it in the ground and it made a full or nearly-full recovery. It has yet to bloom, so it's possible that its near-term experience left it sterile.
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