Smell Ya Later

These flowers are some of the most pleasant smelling flowers I have ever had the privilege of smelling. I look forward every year to their blossoms. The overall visual is nice and all, but it is their aroma that really completes the package. Two fair sized bushes make the 175 foot road frontage of my property and my whole yard a very nice place to smell by.

They will stay in bloom for a month at the least. They are the super bee magnets in the neighborhood. I love standing close while hundreds of bees of varying sizes and temperaments busily do their bee thing. So intent on scoring some of the wonderful nectar, my presence is ignored.

They are very rugged bushes. Anything that survives roadside here has to be rugged. Snowplows will push them back and pile up to 15 feet of hard packed snow banking on them before Spring thaw sets in. They laugh at my puny efforts to keep them under control. But then I hesitate to prune because I love the flowers too much. I'll take out the occasional dead branch or infiltrator that blocks my lawn mower from it's appointed rounds. But for the most part I leave these plants alone.

They are natural stars in my yard of winners and losers. They grow slow. They are resilient to the point I think they may be unkillable. They look great and smell good too. Some of my other plants and bushes could take some lessons from them.

But no, most of the greenery in my yard works hard to make my life miserable. It either grows too fast, spreads where I don't want it too, dies when I don't want it too, or refuses to die when I want it too. A well behaved plant that takes pride in it's appearance is a rarity here on Sam Page Road. I have a yard full of slobs.

Yeah, yeah yeah. A yard is a reflection of the owner. Blah, blah blah. My only excuse is there are way more of them than of me. David and Goliath. Custer's Last Stand. A puny human with pruners clutched in his hand, surrounded by savages painted up in green war paint. With no one at his back, they sneak up from behind and fling their seeds or roots at me. With no back up, it is a war I am losing. The best I can hope for year after year is an armistice, cease fire, stalemate.

So here is my question. My request for information. What the Hell is this plant's name? My father I think, planted them back in the 1960s. They may be older. I have asked locals who stop by but every answer is different. I made a token effort of finding them in several of the many yard and garden books my father collected. I would find something close, but never any plant that fit perfectly. So, if any of you know what it is, drop a comment.