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A year among the trees

Chapter 16: THE LILAC.
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About This Book

The volume offers a seasonal tour of New England woodlands, combining natural history, species descriptions, and landscape observation. It profiles many native trees and shrubs, noting forms, foliage, and identifying features, and organizes scenes by seasons and habitats. Interspersed essays examine trees' relations to soil, water, climate, electricity, birds, and insects, and discuss their roles in health, shade, and ornament. Practical and aesthetic considerations mingle with reflections on poetic and folkloric associations, while guidance on planting, forest rotation, and the varied expressions of trees rounds out a handbook for both the curious walker and the practical planter.

THE LILAC.

The Lilac, though not one of our native trees, has become so generally naturalized in our fields and gardens as hardly to be distinguished from them except by its absence from the forest. It is common in all waste lands that were formerly the sites of ancient dwelling-houses, marking the spot where the garden was situated by its irregular clumps; for when neglected it does not assume the shape of a tree, but forms an assemblage of long stems from one spreading root, like the barberry and the sumach. Under favorable conditions it is a very handsome tree, seldom rising above twelve or fifteen feet, but displaying a round head, and covered in its season with a profusion of flowers, unfolding their beautiful pyramidal clusters regularly on the last week in May. The color of these flowers is perfectly unique, having given the name by which painters distinguish one of their most important tints. The foliage of this tree is not remarkable, except for the regular heart shape of the leaves. It displays no tints in the autumn, but falls from the tree while its verdure remains untarnished.

The Lilac is still cultivated and prized in all our country villages. But its praise is seldom spoken in these days, for Fashion, who refuses to acknowledge any beauty in what is common, discarded this tree as soon as it became domesticated in humble cottage gardens. Even the rose would long ago have been degraded from its ancient honors by this vulgar arbiter of taste, if it had not been multiplied into hundreds of varieties, permitting one after another to take its turn in monopolizing to itself those praises which are due to the primitive rose.