Forsythia

Our yard is a scent-sation. What? Well let’s wander around and I shall explain what I mean. Okay?

The first thing to let us know that we can trust winter is exiting is the forsythia. The yellow petals that cover the bushes are — like pussy willows — the harbingers of spring.

Next, we look at the dirt that has been haphazardly raked and made ready for summer, and we see new green stuff erupting from under the sand. Crocuses and some little star-shaped blue things. Hmm, I wonder where they came from? Ah, well, they are pretty.

For fragrant flowers, it all begins with hyacinth that starts the flower blooming season, usually late April or early May. Following them, the daffodils pick up the pace and then the tulips, which have early mid and late blooms. Some tulips are more aromatic than others, I have realized. Somewhere in here, the lilacs and lily of the valley add their sweet scented voices to the chorus, and Doug and I are in happy sniffing season. Now, the cherry, pear and apple trees have blossomed, and the spirea’s flowers turn the front yard bush white.

Wandering out back, the Japanese lilac bush has begun to bloom and its heavy aromatic smell is different than that of our American or French lilacs. While, over in the corner of the yard, is a bush whose jasmine blossoms simply fill the air with their sweet smell! At the same time, the irises have begun to show off their beautiful flowers and they make me think of orchids. I actually have one iris that is perfumed! They are nearly in full show right now and the mock orange tree — well, really, it is a bush, but it is 15 feet tall! Now it is just starting to bloom. It is a nice soft-smelling blossom.

I am ignoring the lily plants. You know the ones I mean, orange lilies that grow all over our town, often in ditches, and growing in profusion wherever they are. The common ones are single layered, but there are those who have the redeeming feature of being double or triple fullness. Orange is just not my favorite color of flower. They are often misnamed tiger lilies. Since I do have tiger lily plants, with the black on orange, I differentiate between them and am trying to clean them out. They are not fragrant, and spread like bedbugs.

It is funny, when lily of the valley spreads, I do not mind. They want shade or partial shade, and that is good because most flowers prefer sun. So they cover the places that sit bare in the shade. But lilacs, another spreading plant, have to be monitored. They will take over an area when they are left to grow unattended.

So I stand here looking around me and search my mind for who is next on stage? Ah yes, the old roses.

My family has lived at this location since 1872, according to the deed. These roses have been here since my great-great-grandmother, Margaret McDade Monaghan, lived here. I wonder if she brought them with her from Saint-Sylvestre, Quebec? When I was a child, they formed a hedge between our house and my grandmother’s place next door. Because the two homes shared a 100-foot lot, they offered “privacy” across the multi-family driveway. Depending upon the warmth of the weather, these roses would begin to bloom in mid to late June. They were always sure to be covering the hedge by the Fourth of July. Their fragrant deep pink blossoms invited bees from all over the town to come and enjoy their pollen. As they aged, the pink faded until they were almost — but not quite — white. Grandma used to save the petals and dry them to be used eventually as potpourri.

The roses pretty much wrap up the season of smells in my yard. Oh the tiger lily plants and the northern honeysuckle (not fragrant like the southern honeysuckle) have yet to put on their shows, and the different colors of other lily plants will put in their appearances, but now we shall look forward to the fruits and other gifts from the garden to enjoy in our Up North Michigan summer.