Along with the lilac, lily-of-the-valley is one of those old-fashioned plants with whom most people of a certain age carry some sort of happy childhood memory. I’m not different from most people in that regard, and these rugged little perfume powerhouses remind me of my grandmother, who loved their scent so much she had all her bath products tinged with it. (It made gift-giving a snap since she always appreciated anything with their sweet perfume.)
They’ve been in their glory for the past two weeks, coinciding with the lilacs to provide a two-tiered fragrance combination that is the epitome of spring. In our backyard we have a patch of ‘Miss Kim’ lilacs from Andy’s Mum, and nearby a patch of naturalized lily-of-the-valley that came from I don’t remember where. The latter, in the typical invasive nature of the species, has colonized several areas of the yard since we moved in almost twenty years ago, and as much as I love the flowers, I’ve had to be rather ruthless with their encroaching rhizomes. It’s been a battle for a while now, though I usually let them have their flower show before cutting them back without mercy. Gardening isn’t for the weak of heart.
The foliage remains handsome and clean through the entire summer, and in fall it will occasionally turn a light yellow before disintegrating into papery wisps come the end of winter. In truly wretched conditions, it may prove more manageable and easy to control – a dry shade will eventually take its toll, but it’s nothing some moisture and a good topping of manure won’t turn around in a few short weeks. If you’re looking to coddle a few pips or get a large going from a small one, manure is also key, as is evenly moist but well-drained soil.
There is a pink variety that I have yet to see in person, and it sounds delightful, especially if used in a bouquet. Speaking of which, it takes a great deal of back-aching work to garner enough stems for a proper bouquet, but it’s worth it when the perfume fills a room.
