Who’d have thought that lilacs were related to privet?
Encountering lilac, we recollect the lovely fragrance discovered in childhood while meandering in a garden.
Spying the privet, if we’re smart, we yank out the small seedlings growing in profusion beneath the canopy of this invasive, domineering tree. Therefore, this column will devote itself to the appreciation of lilacs, not the propagation of privet, even if they are botanical relatives.
When I am in need of more information, of course, like everyone else, at some time I use George W. Bush’s “The Google.” But first, I love to reach for an Encyclopedia Britannica, blowing dust off at least one.
So, a nice surprise greeted me this morning as I opened volume No. 14, which included “Lilac” on page 119. A flattened folded tissue paper was located there.
The unfolded paper revealed a dry lilac blossom, measuring about 6 inches, its color browned with age but still lovely, with four leaves interspersed among the still attached flower petals.
I don’t recall ever placing it there but it doesn’t matter. It’s just nice it’s there and I’ll leave it for somebody else to find.
The lilac most of us recall, usually growing in colder climates of the northeastern states or Midwest, is the light purple variety.
It was a street shrub in Helena, Montana, when this Californian lived there and I was quite surprised and pleased to walk downtown, inhaling the lovely fragrance in May after the spring snow had melted.
Lilac bushes growing in our warmer, drier climates need summer water. If they are deprived of care, they will sucker our from their base and become a tangle of growth which saps strength from the main trunk.
Removing the suckers after the bloom period is important. Prune them out from the base of the plant. Do not prune across the top of the canopy or the entire bush will become disfigured. While removing suckers, also remove old flower heads. Follow this care with a layer of compost applied every other year. (What occurs if you diligently apply compost every year is a mystery to me and I might worry about that question for years to come, wondering, “Is this the year I compost the lilacs or did I do that last year?”)
The origin of lilacs is Persia (Iran), discovered in the 16th century. The first colors were white or blue, identified by the British herbalist John Gerard in his 1,484-page book, “The Herball.”
However, it was a Frenchman, Victor Lemoine, and his descendants that transformed the privet-like single flower of the original lilac to the spectacular double flowered wonderfully fragrant lilacs which nurseries sell as the “French lilac.”
Born in 1823, Lemoine was part of a family of generations of gardeners and horticulturists. He lived until 1911 and spent his entire life working in plant hybridizing. Among his accomplishments: the double flowered portulaca (1852); the double flowered fuchsia (1854); the white spirea (1862); double flowered pelargonium (1866); double flowered weigelia (1868).
From 1870 on however, he and his son, Emile, and later, grandson, Henri, dedicated their efforts to the lilac, creating over 200 new cultivars.
The wide world of British flower enthusiasts recognized the incredible work of Victor Lemoine by awarding him the Victorian Medal of The Horticulture Society.
He was the first foreigner to receive this honor but he most probably would have been passed over and scorned, lilacs disliked, if he were judged today with parliament embroiled in the Brexit debate. The French and double fuchsias can stay in the EU!
But in that gentler time, following World War I, Victor Lemoine was additionally awarded the George R. White medal of honor from the Massachusetts Horticulture Society.
The year was 1911, oddly, the year he died.
We can think of this amazing talent and the knowledge that he bequeathed to his descendants as we admire and enjoy the arrival of flower cutting and planting.
Although lilacs are not famous for vase longevity, a few rules can help. Cut the blooms in the morning; remove all leaves that may be in the water; pound the woody stem of the cut branch at its base to split the end; renew the vase water often.
One thing more: tuck a cut flower between some tissue paper and hide it in a book. Somebody might find it and be happily surprised. That’s one gift only a book can give when you need to “look something up.”
Renee Kiff weeds and writes at her family farm in Alexander Valley.
