A demure and quietly beautiful little
flower that grows in the shade of bowers, the Lily of the Valley hails spring as
surely as the Robin’s song. From creeping
rhizomes they emerge from the litter-strewn ground under a giant spruce tree or
on the forest floor in the ash grove, in middle May. The verdant green shoots unfurl into
oblong-elliptic pointed basil leaves which have a silvery cast in the morning
dew. The little bell shaped flowers
arrayed along a central stock like pearls were sometimes called fairy bells or
lily bells. Purest white in colour,
they almost glow in the dim twilight. There is a luminous quality about them.
Their fragrance is revitalizing to the
winter weary. It has the signature of
youth. Honey bees, recently awakened,
find the resinous sap, as opposed to nectar, most appealing.
To bring bouquets of the fairy flowers
indoors, permitting their fragrance to waft throughout the house is tonic. Their fragrance is truly a breath of spring.
Robert Louis Stevenson who was ill for
much of his life speaks of Lily of the Valley as a medicinal tonic in one of
his novels. Reference reading suggests
that components of the flower’s essence act similarly to digitalis (also
derived from a flower—foxglove).
My mother wore the fragrance Muguet des
Bois by Coty. Formulated in 1936, the
Nose (perfumery terminology for the designer of fragrances) must have known
secrets of alchemy to have transformed the delicate flower scent into cologne
that was remarkably true to the actual fragrance as it is found in Nature. Some refer to it as an amazing “green note”.
Today, when so many of us have become
sensitive to the synthetic natures of many perfumes, the herbal simple, does
not affront our olfactory senses.
I hope there will be a return to old
fashioned methods of creating fragrances as they are found in Nature. As a master gardener once told me with
conviction, “Nature does it best” and Lily of the Valley, Muguet des Bois,
surely cannot be improved upon. Its
green note is perfection.
