I love May!

Not only is it the month in which I was born but wonderful things start to happen in May.

I loved Mays in England.  There was so much moisture in the air the grass would grow in an almost otherworldly green and lilacs would bloom all month long.  Here in the United States, except in certain magical places, we only have a week, two at the most, of lilac blooms.  In case you haven’t guessed, lilacs are my favorite flower.

I grew up in rural Maine where a huge, ancient hedge of lilacs divided our property and the neighbor’s.  Years of wild growth had created a span of lilac trees and bushes where a child could explore for hours.  I would often disappear into that forest of flowers.  A large flat rock deep in the lilacs was my quiet place.  I’d lie on that warm rock and look up at the sky through the rich green leaves and delicate purple flowers.  I’d daydream, nap and just be.

Those lilacs have since been chopped down by more progressive landowners happy to encourage urban sprawl with subdivisions but that place still exists in my mind and whenever I catch a whiff of lilacs I am transported to those quiet, gentle moments I spent dreaming as a child.