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The gentle grape hyacinth

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By Christine Tailer
HCP columnist

I wonder if I will ever stop learning about life here in the creek valley. After 21 years and at the age of 70, I just noticed several little purple flowers growing out in front of the pole barn. The barn was one of the first structures Greg and I built, preceded only by our little cabin, and in order to build it, we cut into the base of the hillside to avoid taking up space in our tillable fields. 

Accordingly, we cut down several trees, and moved massive quantities of dirt with our trusty 580 D backhoe. In short, none of the soil around the barn was virgin. At first the surrounding ground was simply a mess, but in time grass grew and I happily transplanted daffodils and wild day-lilies on both sides of the large main door.

As soon as I saw the little flowers, I sat right down beside them. There was nothing pressing that needed done, and even though the day was chilly, the sun was shining. The little hillock on which I sat provided the perfect spot to stretch out my legs and learn. When we first moved to the valley, I carried flower and tree identification guides in my pocket. Now I carry my cell phone, and in no time at all, I knew that I was seated beside several clumps of grape hyacinth. I was in no rush to do anything at all, except learn as much as I could about this little purple flower.

I soon learned that wild grape hyacinth bloom for several weeks in the early spring, just about the same time as the daffodils. The hyacinths are definitely not as flashy as their neighboring daffodils, but their scent is subtly beautiful, and I believe that it would rival the most expensive Parisian perfume. This I know, because my grandmother had a weakness for the French scents. 

She had several small bottles, one of which I still have. I remember how she would dot the inside of my wrist, explaining that the French have been crafting some of the the world’s most subtle fragrances for centuries. As I sat in front of our barn, it occurred to me that I must be a lucky lady indeed. I have no need to fly away to Paris or buy a bottle of beautifully crafted perfume. All I need do is step outside, look for the low lying purple topped stalks, and inhale. With that first breath, I can float away, warmly wrapped in a gentle bouquet. 

Our wild creek valley hyacinths grow in delicate, closely spaced bunches of five or six flowers, all growing from a below ground bulb. I’ve noticed that the slender flower stalks are fragile and that this fragility allows the flowers to dance in the slightest breeze. This is a good thing, because when they dance, their scent wafts over to passersby, or anyone who might choose not to pass, but to sit down beside them.  

The flowers are also lovely. Each grape hyacinth flowerhead is made up of fifty or so tight little flowers that are clustered together in a conical shape. They are said to resemble an inverted bunch of grapes, and so they got their name. They are also described as being a deep blue, but to my eye, they appear to be more of a vibrant purple. No matter what their color, it is profound and beautiful.

I wondered, as I leaned back on the hillock, how the flowers had suddenly appeared in front of our barn after all these years. Well, it seems that the bulbs multiply, and can be spread both by humans and by digging creatures, such as chipmunks, squirrels, and moles. Then, once the flowers die back and dry, their seeds are be dispersed both by birds and the wind. Birds enjoy dining on the dried flowers and then, when they fly off, they deposit the seeds in their droppings. My guess is that our grape hyacinths were flown to the front of the pole barn by the valley’s birds.

I was comfortable, enjoying the sunshine that warmed the hillock. I leaned all the way back and lay down in the grass, breathing in the tender grape hyacinth scent. I might have even dozed off, but then I heard a buzzing. I turned my head, and there was a honeybee, perched up-side down and reaching with her tongue up into one of the inverted hyacinth flowers. At that moment, I fell completely in love with this small, gently scented purple flower.

Christine Tailer is an attorney and former city dweller who moved several years ago, with her husband, Greg, to an off-grid farm in Ohio south-central Ohio. Visit them on the web at straightcreekvalleyfarm.com.

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