I was a teenager. I
remember it was spring. I walked through a lobby and an intoxicating scent overwhelmed
me. Yes, the fragrance was that potent. I looked around for a source. I
spotted it meters away, standing erect in a floor vase, tucked in a
corner. It was buttery white and I was utterly ravished!
I fell in love with hyacinths right then and there. However, it took the
teenager that I was years before recognizing it at the florist and finding out
the name of the delightful flowering perennial. No wonder it is named
after a handsome young Greek god was my thought!
Now, I do love plants in general, flowering shrubs and climbers in particular;
my favorites are climbing roses, camellia trees, peonies and
magnolias soulangiana. But I was never truly capable and competent at
caring for any. Somehow, all my plants died rather soonish. Until recently!
This year, I successfully seeded and planted my own used-to-be sad-and-grey
garden! I feed it. I water it. I fuss over it. And I watch it grow and beam.
Yesterday, I took my heart by the hand and purchased a pot of Hyacinthus
Orientalis, bearing glossy green leaves and proud dense clusters, ready to
bloom. After reading all there is to read about transplanting it, caring
for it, enjoying it, I am ready; I feel this little gem will stay around for a
few years at least.