Falling under the spell of this chilly lilac spring, I find myself giddily lost and adrift on the heady perfume and pretty shades of light purple that abound in the garden right now. A softer echo of our opening song, this reprise feels even softer, perhaps a little more seductive than the original post – more fitting with the way this spring is slowly but steadily progressing, adding the smallest of increments to the warming of days.
I lost myself on a cool damp night,
Gave myself in that misty night
Was hypnotized by a strange delight
Under a lilac tree…
While the wine no longer moves me, the perfume of the lilac holds me in sway. Entranced by its potent beauty, I swoon beneath the influence of its exquisite fragrance and delicate shading. Embodiment of spring, emblem of hope, and enticer of all who seek beauty in this world, the lilac is muse and temptress – promiser of delights, sage of inspiration.
Enrapt by the charms of the season, I fall deeper under its enchanting pull every day. As more buds swell and explode – with flower and leaf and root – I’m reminded of the sensual delights that the warmer days will soon bring. Is it terribly wrong to lazily lap up the indulgence of the sun when for so long it’s been absent?
A rebirth of sorts feels in the stirring, and I’m happily powerless of letting it wash over and baptize me anew. A second coming at the tail-end of middle-age, perhaps, and the lilacs have only just begun to tell their perfumed stories…
