Lilacs were always a treasured shrub around our house. My Mom loves them, and one year she asked for a white lilac for Mother's Day. We went around to all the nursery's to find her the perfect white lilac, finally choosing a good specimen. After we gave it to her, and it was all planted we had to wait until the next year to enjoy the blooms. We waited all winter anticipating the fragrant white blossoms. We imagined the delicate fragrance that would waft into the open windows along with the fresh grass scented country air. The lovely contrast of the emerald green leaves, with the beautiful creamy pure white cone shaped clusters. She had specifically asked for white, and wanted no other color.
Finally spring started, the blossoms swelled after the cold winter temperatures, we checked the shrub each day. Unbelievably the green blooms were tinged with purple, that must be what they are before they open into white we told her. But as the blossoms unfolded into a deep mauve purple, we had to admit defeat. Despite the tag, this was no perfect white lilac. I don't remember if she ever got her cherished white lilac, but I do know that the purple one was beautiful. And every time I sell a purple lilac, I remember the nursery man who assured us with such sincerity that it definitely was a white lilac.
