There was a luxuriant stand of it in my grandparent’s garden. It fascinated me as a child and I would be hard put to say whether the tiny waxy bells or the scent – rich, fresh and sweet all at once – attracted me most.
When I started my own garden, lily of the valley (Convallaria majalis) was one of the signature flowers that I had to have – along with actual lillium, iris, tulips and roses. I suppose I thought I could grow a florist’s display window in my shady, mainly-courtyard space. With many false starts, I did eventually grow most of these plants, though not exactly as I had envisioned.
Strangely, the lily of the valley I planted back then did nothing – at least where I put it. Years later, it finally came up in a different spot and continues to appear at this time every spring. It obligingly prefers the edge closest to a walkway. When the flowers are done, I pull out the leaves that are getting in the way of other plants, though I know this does nothing to stop its mild spread.
Though it doesn’t yield natural extracts, perfumers can create spot-on renditions of lily of the valley. Comme des Garcons makes a nice one but there are many others.
Sadly, this iconic flower, with its rich historic and mythological associations, has been taken up by the braying, native-only, “don’t plant this” brigade. I regularly read cries of “Kill it” and “get rid of it” posted in our local gardening group.
True, it does spread. So do lots of things. But I find a big gap between true aggressors like lesser celandine and the mild romping of LOTV. It’s not on any local invasive species list that I can find- even if it were, as always, I simply can’t understand the hysteria.
So now, the childhood memories that rise to the surface when I see these flowers have become only slightly tinged by social media vilifications
In the end, I have to pity those who seem mainly to garden out of fear and need to share that fear with other gardeners.
It seems lily of the valley is continuing its historic power to evoke emotions into the 21st century.
Lily of the Valley.. one of my favourite plants.. i remember them from childhood in Nebraska.. and they were on the north side of the house.. I have some here.. sadly ones I dug up from my old Nebraska home were buried when we had a brick wall installed years ago.. I don’t know what I was thinking.. I should have dug them up.. sigh.,
It runs rampant in my yard and gardens, and my husband hates it because of this. But I love it and will always have it. Its flowers are charming, and that scent is one of the most beautiful ones I know. I’ve worn various perfumes and lotions that mimic its scent.
“White coral bells, upon a slender stalk,
Lily of the Valley at my garden walk.
Oh don’t you wish, that you could hear them ring?
That can happen only when the fairies sing!
Lily of the Valley – such a lovely little plant. How can anyone hate it? Sure it spreads, but it’s easily controlled, and I’ve yet to see it popping up in the forest and crowding out native ephemerals. Thanks for defending this sweet memory maker. As soon as I read the headline, the three-way round that I used to sing with my mom and sister immediately popped into my head. Sharing the words above.
I learned that song at Camp Fire Girls’ camp, and haven’t thought of it in years. Thank you! Now I must plant some lily of the valley; I hope it isn’t proscribed up here.
omg! I was a campfire girl and I remember singing that song. Thanks for the memory!
Thank you, Nancy! I was humming that sweet song and remembering how we used to sing it during Girl Scouts. Lily of the Valley was always in my Mama’s and Grandma’s gardens growing up. If they complained of the spreading nature of it, I never heard it. Sweet memories.
It is not easily controlled. It pops up in rhododendron beds and then in primrose plantings and then at all the edges of the garden. Only if you have a very small garden can you easily control it.
I had a large stand of it in a previous garden. It took over a large patch and the root system was almost impenetrable, even with a sharp spade. I do love the smell and the flowers, but you have to give it lots of room, here in KY.
I also have fond memories of them, since they were one of the flowers grown in my mother’s small side garden when I grew up. Years ago, I went to an older woman’s house in my CT town to dig up some for my own front shade garden. I dug up two shovels of them, and she seemed distressed I didn’t want more. (My front garden is small.) In her yard, they had spread to her distress. Yet in my yard, planted at the feet of a dogwood, they have barely expanded, and it’s been easily 15 years since I dug them up. I think some things display thuggish qualities in some gardens, while strangely behaving themselves in others — even in the same town. It is truly a mystery.
I have a personality tendency not to see most things in black and white. This includes planting only “native” species. With climate change (Note the two reclassifications of Zones in the last 10 years) plants that were native in a given area may not necessarily do better now. Our knowledge of insects is actually quite incomplete …unless they are highly specialized many adapt to new plant species. I have a large herb garden in addition to my other gardens. Most of the herbs that I grow are non-native. I shouldn’t grow them? Yes lily of the valley is aggressive . That is not the same as invasive. Jumping on every new bandwagon is easier than seeking facts.
You caught me with your first sentence. Another mostly grey rather than black & white person. Lots of good points. I suspect regarding the lily of the valley it depends where you plant it. My experience has been that it spreads very slowly in a dry, dark spot. Planted in a more flower friendly area I think it could definitely be a problem.
I think some spreaders are awfully reluctant to get started. I have had a little of this wonderful plants for years but have never been able to pick the full bunch my mother in law used to be able to give me from her garden. Beautiful scent.
How can anyone not love it!?
The lily-of-the-valley we inherited along with my husband’s childhood home is extremely slow to spread. Where it is planted it is a lovely groundcover, only spreading very slightly each year. I love it. I’ve tried to move bits to other places in my garden, but it’s never taken. I feel that everything has a favorite microclimate, and that’s where it will do well. I love the tiny bouquets I put around the house in the spring. I also am a bit tired of being harangued about the plants I have chosen. You do you and I’ll do me.
A neighbor I share a common border with loved her LOTV, which naturally creeps into my garden and it really IS hard to get rid of. It’ll pop up yards away from where it was the previous year. Also because it disappears by early summer, it’s not something I want as a supposed groundcover.
I think the leaves to hang around. I don’t think they disappear, though not sure they make a good ground cover.
I had a stand of Lily of the Valley adjoining a bed of Pacasandra (sp?). It started to over power the Pacy so I mowed it down as soon as it finished blooming in a space between the two. It did not come back for 4-5 yrs in tht area. I think it spreads ‘around’ the yard by seeding, but if you don’t allow the leaves time to make new root growth it seems to retard it. When it did start back I just cut it with one trip of the mower and good for another 4-5 yrs. I have since moved from that house and I don’t know what has happened but in the last 12 yrs. but 4 different families have lived there and one of them removed all the garden in the circle drive bed…the only area that got some good sun!
Could either the pink/rosea flowering or fancy leaf varieties (e.g., albostriata, Potsdam Stripe, Fernwood’s golden slippers) be less aggressive/invasive and a better alternative to plant than the regular form in many gardens?
I walked on a woodland trail in Maine and passed by an old homestead cellar. It was dead center in a mass of blooming lily of the valley. It was gorgeous and evocative of earlier generations.
I have always loved it, but is way too aggressive. I have a 16’ by 8’ raised bed it has virtually filled. I love the plant and used to love bringing some in for a vase, but don’t anymore as it is poisonous to cats.
Reading this makes me glad I am not on social media much. If someone else is screaming lily of the valley is awful, I would simply tune them out. I love it. I have a large patch in the back under 2 large pines. It has spread maybe 2 ft out from them in 40 years. When I walk out my backdoor I am blessed with that lovely scent but for only a few weeks in May. I guess because I have 30 acres, I’m not worried. It hasn’t escaped to my neighbors, although they might welcome it.
In the wrong hands many plants can go astray. Sounds like your LOTV are in the right hands, so I’m thrilled for you. I tried to grow them in my Texas garden, but they failed to return. Lucky you to have them.
It’s a horror in my yard so I pulled most of it out (I kept the pink ones) and planted it in the local park where I go every year to pick a bunch and enjoy the lovely smell
Thank you for defending this aromatic wonder. Especially the rant about fear. 😉
“More than a flirtation, better than a superstition, almost a religion, the lily of the valley is celebrated on the first of May” — Colette
*sigh* am I the only gardener who struggles to get this beloved/hated/feared plant to establish in my garden? This year I picked a single stem in time for May 1st. Maybe it’s because I’m not French~
I feel a great affinity with lily of the valley; it’s as wilful and cantankerous as I am.
I work for quite a few people who love this plant but for whom it refuses to grow, but also for people who hate this plant and for whom it will grow with extraordinary vigour and create massive drifts of leaves and flowers.
It seems the more you value this plant, the less it likes you; this could of course come down to the fact that the plant is a born survivor in its native range, and that gardeners who value it give it conditions that are too good for it when what it actually wants is a more challenging spot.
In one of my gardens they spent 30 years trying to eradicate it, and have largely succeeded apart from a little bit that grows between some paving stones. That little area, just a few stems, produces the finest flowering I’ve seen in the genus, probably as a statement of defiance against the owner of the garden who now tolerates this small pocket of convallaria.
People are not “spreading fear”. I have both native plant gardens and traditional gardens. What plants are well-behaved in your garden or on your property does NOT mean that they are that way everywhere!! Lily of the Valley is a very aggressive plant in some areas, just like Vinca minor, burning bush, barberry, Scilla siberica and the list goes on. All of those plants I have listed are still being sold by nurseries despite their being extremely invasive in natural areas in my part of the country: the upper Midwest. So please get a clue!
“Get a clue.” Not the kind of rhetoric that entices beginning gardeners to plant natives. This is what I mean by scaring and berating tactics. There is room for all kinds of plants. And, as I researched, LOTV is not on any of the official lists, which I respect.
My LOTV patch has grown from a little start from my Great Aunt Matha. She was a fun loving, wonderful person and I think of her every year when the blooms and their sweet scent arrive. :o)
PS – it is a VERY SLOW spreader and easy to contain on the edge of my woodland.
We bought a house with two plantings of Lily of the Valley. They’re so beautiful, and I love the fragrance, but they stress me out. I have a 3yr old, a 2yr old, and a baby. I’m a stay-at-home mom who only has two hands.
Lily of the Valley is deadly poisonous to toddlers and small animals. The kind of poisonous where you might not make it to a hospital in time. In the house, chemicals like that get locked up. That’s less of an option outside, and I’ve tried for three years to dig it all up or smother it. Nothing works. If even a little piece of their roots are left in the ground, and they like that spot, they’ll come right back.
I’ve finally given up and now I just mow down anything that creeps into the fenced backyard, and pray the rest of the time.