I don’t know what happened to lilies. They were once the ultimate summer bulb: fragrant, joyful, decadent. Then they retreated into a dark corner of the garden to join flowers that were inexplicably old hat and awkward, to be regarded as a batty aunt.
They deserve a comeback.
In early summer, and in my mind, the lily still reigns. I look up my hill to stands of tall hybrids in cream, magenta and yellow, dancing with the coneflowers and Russian sage. In the long evenings of June and July, their sweet scent wafts down to the porch and announces the season.
A century ago, American gardeners were intoxicated by the arrival of new lilies from China and Japan, and the trade east across the Pacific was phenomenal. The market in lily bulbs from Japan was more than three times that of all other garden plants put together.
To read the rest of the story, please go to: Washington Post
