Lily of the Valley is my absolute favorite flower.*
It is the flower I relate to the most. After the gloomy winter days have passed on for the year, the elegant dark green leaves appear, not in the bright sunshine, but lingering in the cool shadows. At my childhood home, the lilies were hidden between a giant and protective pine tree and the underside of the porch. I remember admiring the dainty white flowers and gently picking them to keep by my bed.
Ever since then, I cannot help myself with these tiny little flowers. Their sweet, childlike fragrance is unparalleled, and they give a sense of mystery and nostalgia; those very same plants had been in my great-grandmother's yard when my dad was growing up. I never met my great-grandmother, but there's something about hearing a story over and over again about a place you've never been to that is owned by someone you've never met. It intrigues me.
I still need to look into how to grow them, but hopefully I'll be able to purchase some pips for our new home.
*The author claims this often with the following flowers: lilacs, ranunculus, peonies, daffodils, lily of the valley, and any flower that happens to be in front of her at the moment. Her absolute claims regarding favorite flowers are not to be trusted.