The best thing about spring is that everything begins all over again.  The purple lilac is my favorite flower and part of it is what it symbolizes.  Then there is the delicacy, the fragrance, their dependability in blooming regardless of the winter, and their memories.  To go to my grandmother's house, I walked up the road, over the ditch, around the apple tree, around the porch and the lilacs, and past the peonies-something of a double ess  and a fragrant journey in the spring (you have to understand that spring in NH is actually from late May to early June).
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At 4-H Camp we sang this song.  I can still remember coming home and singing it to my mother, who already knew it because she sang it when she was a little girl:

I wanna wake up, in the morning, where the purple lilacs grow,
Where the sun comes a-peepin into where I'm a-sleepin, and the song birds say hello!
I wanna wander through the wildwood where the fragrant breezes blow,
and drift back, to New Hampshire, where the purple lilacs grow.

(The purple lilac is our state flower)
 



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