Outside my study window an old lilac bush bears the imprint of the changing seasons, waxing and waning. For the past eight winters I have marveled at rust-colored buds swelling under a wan sun, soon to be split apart, new branches shooting upwards, topped by clusters of fragrant lavender, suggestive of first love. It’s about to happen again.


Tracings of lilacs play within stories of many peoples, including my own. With last year’s brush with cancer, I wondered if I would again experience another blooming of my old bush, enjoy its heady aromas and lush green leaves, and prune and care for it over the summer. It looks like this will happen. More time allotted for new growth in all directions – for all of us! The Gardiner wishes this for us …