Lee Bailey was right, as he so often was: it takes a lot of lily-of-the-valley blooms to make a semi-decent bouquet. Fortunately for us (for the most part, with the minor exception of where they’re escaping into the lawn and garden) we have several semi-wild patches of these that have naturalized themselves to the point where we have hundreds of blooms to utilize. To be honest, they’ve proliferated to the point of being a nuisance, but they’re a beautiful nuisance, and at this time of the year they fill the yard with their intoxicating perfume. It was a favorite of my grandmother’s, and they always remind me of her.
I picked these while they were nearing their finish; it will actually divert energy into the root system. Rather than work on setting seed, they will spread by rhizome, popping up through the smallest cracks in a make-do patio. If you want to get a good, healthy clump started, pile on the manure in the fall or winter. They adore it. Leave it out if you want them less robust. One cow’s shit is a lily’s supper. Or, eat shit and prosper. A happy garden is a dirty business.
After amassing all the stems in a simple glass vase, something still felt off. I tried adjusting their placement, but there’s really only so much one can do in this situation, and I’m not quite evolved enough to bunch them in one section as seems to be all the rage in the florist business these days. I realized it was just too formal and monotonous, so I went back outside and plucked a few sets of leaves. It made all the difference.
