The lilies, like most flowering plants, love the sun shining brightly but not so intensely as when some fluffy clouds filter the sunlight now and then. The lilies send their intoxicating perfume after a long sunny day, and such scent makes the early evening breeze more soothing and enjoyable, just a great ambience for an early evening walk in our neighborhood.
And this early evening, Lilianne comes along to our garden, tottering with her cane on one hand and her daughter’s arm supporting her other hand. Through our living room window, I observe Lilianne moving from one lily cluster to the next at our front roadside border where a few stands of oriental, trumpet, tiger, and heirloom lilies are enjoying their blooming peak for a short five- to ten-day streak.
Lilianne stands for a long time in front of the towering Oriental lily ‘Casa Blanca’, perhaps because she has to figure out how to reach the white flowers towering about 6 feet, way above her short, bent frame. Or, perhaps because this lily tends to be the most generous with its fragrance among the blooming lilies in our front garden.
After a long while, Lilianne moves on to smell the shorter (at about three feet only) lone bloom of the pink Lily ‘Anastasia.’ Usually an early summer bloomer, this light pink flower is currently fully open, two weeks after the neighboring ‘Anastasia’ clumps did. Maybe because it’s shaded by the spreading branches of the waterfall chamaecypares obtusa while the others are mostly in the sun.
More exposure to the sun does hasten the blooming of most plants. In our garden, majority of the lilies bloom during the last week of July through the first two weeks of August, depending on their variety or hybrid. They’re slow in getting themselves to bloom yet very quick in fading away, especially after any rainfall that induces rust or flower decay.
Nearby, the cherry pink blooms with white outlines of the Oriental lily ‘Stargazer’ beg to be sniffed by Lilianne. Most of the lilies in our garden are the ‘Stargazers.’ I grabbed a few bags (containing 18 bulbs each bag) from a wholesale store when its lilies were on sale.
I purposely plant the sweet-smelling lilies along our entrance pathway so that when we come towards our front door from the street after a hard day at work, we get greeted by the relaxing and alluring fragrance from the lilies in bloom.
The fragrance is most pronounced after the day’s sunlight heats up the oils in the lily’s waxy petals and hairy stamens, then the drop in temperature at dusk condenses the essential oils, releasing the volatile fragrance. I guess this is the way that lilies entice pollinators. To the lilies, this is a matter of survival and longevity of their species rather than a lovely reward for the gardener. But I’ll take this as my reward for growing these lilies.
Then Lilianne moves on towards the taller clumps of the Lily speciosum ‘Black Beauty,’ a prized heritage lily. But the flowers prove to be too high up there for her. She merely tries to crane her neck and forces herself to get a whiff of their sweet fragrance.
At this point, I hurriedly step outside, hoping to snap one bloom off the cluster of blooms of the ‘Black Beauty’ for our neighbor. But she sweetly declines my offer.
Many other lilies in the garden are out of reach for Lilianne. Some are in the back berm underneath our neighbor’s old pine trees. Many are densely surrounded by other plants since I maximize the space in my garden, planting almost every square foot with perennial plants, bulbs, veggies, shrubs, and fruit trees.
Trumpet lily ‘Golden Splendor,’ Trumpet lily ‘African Queen,’ and Oriental lily ‘Pink Perfection’
At the back of the berm, there’s the Trumpet lily ‘Golden Splendor’ and the Trumpet lily ‘African Queen’ jostling for space and the dappled sunlight filtering through the pine trees’ canopy. Being tall, over five feet, these lilies can be seen even if planted at the back of their group.
The Oriental lily ‘Pink Perfection,’ although planted in the front border so that the neighbor who gave me the generous clumps can see his lilies when he drives by, is hard to reach for Lilianne. The lilies are behind a row of boxwood.
Asiatic lilies 'Lollypop,' Landini,' and 'The Sphinx' are early-blooming varieties
A few of the lilies are early-summer bloomers so their flowers have long been gone on the day of Lilianne’s visit. Most Asiatic lilies are early bloomers.
For example, Asiatic lily ‘Lollypop’ has bloomed three weeks ago, and all that’s left of it are small green leaves, some already turning yellow, climbing up along the fat stalks. So did the blackish purple Asiatic lily ‘Landini’ and the deep red Asiatic lily ‘The Sphinx.‘ Although Asiatic lilies are sturdier and easier to grow than other types of lilies, Asiatic lilies don’t exude a fragrance.
My prized Martagon lily ‘Purple Turk’s Caps’ and Martagon lily ‘Red Turk’s Caps’, on the other hand, bloom in early June, a full two months ahead of most lilies. They’re “prized” because I bought them at about five times the price of most other lilies.
Normally, I’m an extremely thrifty (translation: “cheap”) gardener, buying my stocks only when they go on sale, or obtaining them from private and garden club plant sales, and even much more preferred, getting them for free from generous neighbors.
In our front garden these Martagon (or Turk’s Caps) lilies have been irritatingly slow to establish and a bit fuzzy to grow in spite of the claims on the info sheet that came with the two bulbs I bought from the mail-to-order bulbs company based in the opposite side of the country. Curiosity and jealousy finally forced me to order those two sad-looking bulbs.
The flowers of the Martagon lilies are wonderfully numerous. It has over a dozen flowers on each stalk. But the flowers are sadly dinky; most don’t manage to burst past a two-inch bubble, with disproportionately large, stubby stamens. I can’t say they are aesthetically great. The petals are reflexed (turned backward) so tightly that they look like they touch each other behind the flower, looking like a Turkish turban. I guess that’s how they got their name.
May-blooming Asiatic lilies (salmon pink and orange) and April-blooming Easter lilies (lilium longiflorum)
Of course, the Easter lilies, those iconic floral symbols of Easter Sunday, have long flowered in early April. Easter lilies have large white blossoms and a very distinctive scent. Allergies and discerning personal scent aversions keep our Easter lilies outdoors. But on Easter Day itself, I‘d sneak in one flower indoors, contained in a vase high up on our mantle top, as a natural air freshener and to celebrate Easter Sunday. I just have to remove the stamen to reduce its very strong smell and avoid staining any fabric.
Tiger lily ‘Improved Orange’ and Tiger lily 'Orange'
Lilianne moves from the entrance pathway to the flower bed at the corner of the intersecting streets in front of the house. Towering above the bed of heather and deep-red rose bushes are the statuesque Tiger lily ‘Improved Orange.’
Lilianne can’t waddle through the thorny rose bushes to get to the tiger lilies, and besides, unlike Oriental and Trumpet lilies, Tiger lilies are not particularly known for their scent.
Lilianne asks her daughter to take her photo in front of the tall Tiger lily, with its nodding pink-orange petals with maroon dots that do make the flowers resemble spots on the tigers.
“I’m thankful you let me enjoy my last visit to your garden,” Lilianne sounds more sad than grateful.
“I always enjoy looking at your garden every time I pass by. I will miss this place.”
“I’m moving to a seniors condo at the end of this month,” she explains when I ask her why this is her ‘last visit.’
Lilianne lives at the greyish blue house at the corner, a block away from us. I’ve seen Lilianne pass by our house many, many times. I remember she was a brisk walker when I first saw her many years ago, maybe ten or nine years ago. She must have gone grocery shopping because with both hands she would have a few bulging plastic bags bearing the name of the nearby grocery store.
As years go by, Lilianne’s steps have become less steady, and she would carry only one green reusable tote bag.
Two years ago, I saw her in a wheelchair, her daughter pushing the black wheelchair from the bus stop that’s right in front of our backyard. I learned she had just recovered from a stroke. Then for some time, I’ve never seen Lilianne and her daughter anymore.
This early Saturday evening is the first time I’ve seen them again.
“Mom is going into a care home. Close to where I live. Better there, so I can visit her more often.”
“Would you want a stalk of my lilies to take home?” I offer, as she and her daughter start their slow, haltering walk home.
“No, thank you. It’s very kind of you. The lilies can stay here. They’re very beautiful. Flowers are best left in the garden than in a vase. So more people can also enjoy them,” Lilianne demurely declines my offer.
“My mother is moving end of the month. We’re busy packing her stuff. I think the smell of the lilies would be too much inside Mom’s house anyway,” her daughter chimes in.
And after some more brief farewells, off they finally head to that greyish blue house at the corner, as the sun slowly but surely hides behind the mountaintops.
‘I believe the mother and her daughter are right,’ I start my self-talk after they left.
‘Lilies don’t last very long in vases after the blooms have fully opened up. They usually don’t last as long as when they’re in the garden. And yes, the smell of lilies can be overpowering indoors.’
And to some people, including my wife, the smell of lilies is -– unfortunately –- associated with wakes and funeral homes. I’d like to think of lily blooms in baby showers or in bridal bouquets instead of in someone’s memorial arrangement.
Lilies, too, are actually poisonous and hyper-allergenic to certain people and pets. My wife tells me her friend’s cat needs a Visa card-draining vet’s visit after some lily pollen goes into the cat’s nostrils. She claims that another person reports her cat died after ingesting some of the lily’s shiny leaves.
Lily pollen can stain so badly that even bleach cannot completely lift the colors off, but simply fades the fabric. Florists normally snip off the stamen before adding lily blooms to an arrangement.
So our lilies shall indeed remain in the garden.
Yet, in spite of all the hazards that lilies pose, I will continue to grow lilies – outdoors, of course. I consider the lily flower, though ephemeral, delicately beautiful, and stately, its fragrance quite sweet and always brings smiles to my face. I purposely overlook its downsides. I focus on the beauty that lilies truly are.
Now I find another reason: my lilies will hopefully help me remember Lilianne, one of the last few original homeowners of this fast-changing neighborhood, a neighborhood of now younger homeowners who seem to be too busy building monster homes and accumulating stocks and bonds instead of maintaining neighborly bonds. And to Lilianne, I dedicate this blog.
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