LILAC LOVE
Between the fading fuchsia of the redbud trees and the arrival of the violet iris, I start my lookout. My annual lilac ritual required observation for the ideal day. I waited through spring snow flurries and bouts of impatience; now it was time. The night before I prepare. Double sided red plastic bucket. Garden gloves and clippers. Vases of assorted dimensions selected and filled with water as time would be of the essence. Alarm set for 5:45. For over a decade, I’ve known no other person to clip a branch this row of magnificence other than me. I arrive as