Lime's the hue and miguet the scent

Snowball bush front of house next to red bayberry shrub

Gorgeous lime green abounds all around outside already from the balmy March and early spring.  Several people have asked me what I did  to our snowball bush this year because of its brilliant lime cascade.  Honestly I can take no credit for Mother Nature's magnificence.  This year the trouble free bush has outdone itself reaching to the eaves this early and covered in lime hue blooms; all that happens is after blooming Jerry whacks it back to half it's size or it would be over the roof and into the siding. It gets about two whack cuts a year.   The flowers are usually white but this year they have a wild Irish lime tinge that is spectacular and different from others in the neighborhood.  This shrub was planted by the previous owners,  is likely about 20 years old, prospering, and happily left alone it is glorious.

Close up of snow ball branch

It's Latin horticultural name is  Viburnum opulus 'Roseum' and is  known as a very adaptable plant, with a mature height of 10-12 ft., Viburnum is touted as perfect for hedges and screens bu this baby stands alone along the front, outside a guest bedroom window. This shrub gives  all the beauty and none of the fuss.  From  a gardener's catalogue: "You’ll enjoy large hydrangea-like blooms in early summer, sometimes reaching the size of a softball! As a large mounding shrub, Viburnum is ideal for that showy formal hedge or privacy screen. Space 8-10 ft. apart for a full compact screen. "

There you have it, early summer bloom  indeed this year here up north where things always bloom later than they did in California or certainly later than farther south, our snowball bush is ahead and headlong into early summer, despite a few nights of evenings cooling to light frosts.  These blooms are indeed softball size.  There is no scent, which makes them ideal for table arrangements where a floral smell sometimes conflicts with food aromas. 

I like to cut limbs for floral arrangements but  this year, the blooms are ahead of the iris and maybe two weeks past the prime of the lilacs with which it makes a spectacular show.   But we are preparing to depart in our motor home this week to Indiana first to visit friends and then on to PA to check on things for the estate and the house which still is on the market.  So I will not be enjoying snowball bouquets.  I remember that Aunt Marie had one of these bushes and when we visited later in the year it could be found in bloom in June and July and sometimes hers would give a second bloom with fewer flowers.  Our bush never blooms twice and after this full bouquet display it merits a rest and retreat to leaves for the remainder of its growing season. 

Lily of the valley

There is a scent that I absolutely adore in the air now in the back of the house as the Lily of the valley bed puts on it's show for the year.  This is the first flower I recall from childhood, they grew on the side of our front lawn bank where I grew up in Pennsylvania.  I would stick my head  deep down inside them and breathe in the scent as a toddler which horrified my grandmother who annually campaigned to remove them because she claimed they were poisonous.  But I cried and fussed so that she was ever watchful allowing me to smell most carefully but then promptly took me inside to thoroughly wash my face and hands and sometimes even changed my clothes.  I would sneak a favorite doll outside to that bank when I could intrigued by anything that was off limits to me at an early age.  As I got older, I could not believe this lovely smell could be harmful and was sure it was just an old Polish folklore.  That must have been when Mom swung into Lily of the Valley complete eradication and soon they bloomed no more on the banks of our lawn.  I thought that dreadful, but like so many things she said it was to "protect me"  more likely she  said, "it's for your own good."  Not much that was for my "own good" appealed to me as a child.  

Lily of the valley sprig with one of
our outdoor cherubs 

So I was surprised to see that "Convallaria majalis commonly known as the Lily of the Valley, is a poisonous woodland flowering plant native throughout the cool temperate Northern Hemisphere in Asia and Europe. A limited native population occurs in Eastern USA "  I guess my old grandma knew her poisons but I still adore these flowers, and have kept  a life long love of the scent.  So today after getting some extra smells in and admiring some sprigs which came inside into tiny bottles, I did carefully wash my hands and nose with lava soap just as if I had been in poison ivy.  How can something so gorgeous be so bad?  Isn't that just the  downside of Mother Nature, temptation is sweet but sweetness can be harmful.  

There are many legends associated with Lily of the valley according to Wikipedia:       "The flower is also known as Our Lady's tears or Mary's tears from Christian legends that it sprang from the weeping of the Virgin Mary during the crucifixion of Jesus. Other etiologies its coming into being from Eve's tears after she was driven with Adam from the Garden of Eden or from the blood shed by Saint Leonard of Noblac during his battles with a dragon.   The name "lily of the valley" is also used in some English translations of the Bible in King Solomon's Song of Songs 2:1.  It is a symbol of humility in religious painting. Lily of the valley is considered the sign of Christ's second coming. The power of men to envision a better world was also attributed to the lily of the valley.

In Germanic mythology lilies are associated with the virgin goddess of spring Ostara. The lily symbolizes life to Pagans and the blooming of lily of the valley flower heralds the feast of Ostara. The sweet fragrance and whiteness of the flowers symbolize the humility and purity of its patron goddess."

It is a toss up today whether my favorite floral scent is rose or lily of the valley.    Other names  include May lily, May bells, lily constancy, ladder-to-heaven, male lily, and muguet, which is French and which I recall Coty made a toilet water so named.  

We have iris beds in the back along the house and there is landscape barrier cloth over which hundreds of lava rock have been piled to prevent weeds from growing.  But I noticed a few lily of the valleys sprouted and that was all it took to get my subversionary tactics in full gear.   It has taken me these 7 years here in Minnesota to achieve the growth of this lily of the valley bed between the irises, by  opening holes in the landscape cloth all to Jerry's dismay.  He has objected almost the same way  my Grandma did when she caught me in the lilly of the valleys.  Only he objects because he wanted nothing growing there--and laments why did I have to get these "weeds" started.  Finally he acquiesced as he will do in most battles with me, so I enjoy the lovely scent of miguet wafting upward to me as soon as I step out the back garage door.