These lilacs were painted with a dear friend of mine in mind, one who is about to learn what every parent must at some point or another:
It's really, really hard to let go of the reins. Even if it's only for a few hours. Like it or not, sometimes you just have to do it.
Lilacs are flowers that, when in bloom, I always vow to plant more of. I want them outside of bedroom windows, near the front porch, along the edge of the woods. But they are fussy in that they have needs which cannot be denied: full sun, alkaline soil, annual pruning. When it comes right down to it I don't have many spots in the yard that suit them all that well.
I've noticed that even after a really hard pruning, whether by blade or a severe winter storm, they do come back with a fury. Our lilac bushes last spring were especially abundant despite taking a direct hit two winters before. Like children, it's astounding what they can endure and still bloom, hale and hardy and ready to inspire us all.