Wrapping up subtropical winter bloomers

Clematis armandii. http://www.smgrowers.com.

Well its come time to bid farewell to our subtropical friends, as enough outdoor bloomers from the mid-latitudes are now getting going to catch my attention. Clematis armandii is yet another Chinese native, although it blooms a bit later than most of the prior plants in my list. About the time Pink Jasmine and Daphne are wrapping up, this sweet climber is putting all hands on deck. I saw a small one scrambling up some wall in Charleston, South Carolina, years ago on the same trip I saw Pittosporum, and was remembering what I had previously read about the vine from The Fragrant Path before I finally succumbed to my natural instinct to smell it. This clematis, like its brothers in the genus, is vanilla scented. This one is lighter and cleaner scented than Virginia bower, and scarcely less sweet than C. montana; but it is more attractive than any other plant in the genus I have seen to date! Hardy to zone 7 when sequestered in a warm spot, this is definitely a plant for a trellis or fence as its evergreen leaves provide visual interest regardless of the time of year. 

Armand clematis blooms its little heart out from late march until mid may, depending on where you live and how warm it gets. Its a good climber, growing up to 15 feet, but not nearly as aggressive as its brother plants, or as heavy as wisteria- so its certainly a liveable companion! Being a woodland inhabitant, it will take shade, but will be robbed of some blooms; although shade will be necessary for its survival in zones 9 and 10. The green leaves are certainly attractive, but too much or too little moisture tends to give them unsightly brown edges, as does too much sun in warm areas. Lastly, there are pink-flowered cultivars available of the genus, which would undoubtedly pair well with Pink Jasmine on a pergola.

Chimonanthus praecox. http://www.jparkers.co.uk.

There are quite a few other late winter bloomers that I have not covered, simply because I haven’t smelled them to give my honest opinion about them. Regrettably, I have not had the chance to smell the wintersweet, (Chimonanthus praecox) which is arguably the hardiest of the subtropical winter bloomers, and the most ethereal of them all. It is reported to be hardy to zone 7, but I have yet to have seen or smelt it anywhere. Its a small shrub with attractive deciduous leaves and a spicy fragrance resembling jonquils and violets according to The Fragrant Path. Its certainly more popular in its native China than here. Other fragrant winter bloomers include Sarcococca, sweet box or winter box, a genus with fragrant blooms in January that are very sweet but short-lived; Viburnum odoratissimum, another Asian bloomer, with a sweet Osmanthus-like fragrance; and Viburnum tinus, Laurustinus, native to the Mediterranean, with a wonderfully sweet fragrance, beautiful evergreen leaves, and a bloom period greater than six months during the dark times of the year.

There are undoubtedly others out there I am not aware of that I will surely find and smell in time. One thing is for sure, fragrance never truly takes a break around the world, even during winter. While those of us from the mid-latitudes have a break during the cold months, we get to relish our greenhouse visits and trips to the south that make every whiff count. With spring now at our doorstep, the southern plants will inevitably continue their bloom in frost-free splendor while fading out, but we northerners are just now beginning our long thaw, and anticipating the sweet bulbs of April. My nose has already sampled scents and are yearning to find more. The new season has begun, slowly spring begins its march towards the longer days of the year, and our senses await to be bombarded. You southerners may have the upper hand for now, but April and May are our months- just you wait!

 

Pink Jasmine

Jasminum polyanthum. KENPEI. Wikimedia Commons.

I LOVE Jasmines! I could easily write a book about Jasmines and the entire Jasminum genus but I’ll keep my posts here about Jasmines short for my viewers’ sakes. Of all the Jasmines in the world- this one is easily the most temperamental, but most rewarding at the same time. J. polyanthum is a common greenhouse and windowsill garden fixture this time of year, and its fragrance is well worth the trouble to grow it. When I say trouble- I mean it by the way, but more on that later. I won’t even begin to say where this from as I’ll sound like a broken record, but I will say something different from recent days. This is a plant I would grow if you live in California as opposed to the East coast, as J. polyanthum loves cool weather. If you have a zone 9 garden and a pergola, do yourself a favor and grow this one outside! While this is primarily a late winter/early spring bloomer, those in the coastal California region get to enjoy this one all year! I can’t explain why it can bloom all year in one location and only a month in another but my guess would be temperature and moisture. It will grow in the southeast by the way, it just won’t bloom as long, and needs more water when its hot.

Most jasmines have a fragrance that I just plain can’t describe except for saying just go and smell it, but this one is an exception. Unlike other jasmines, there is no hint of musk in this one- its just plain sugary sweet while its young and in full bloom. While most other jasmines I’ve encountered have a definitive base scent with subtle variations- this one is just kind of out on its own. Its very weak in the actual jasminol department, which is either a good or bad thing depending on how you look at it. However, this particular jasmine has the unfortunate indole effect that our friend paperwhites share. Again, some people can’t detect it at all, but others can’t stand it. Tovah Marin recollects one story of Victorian gardener who sent her servants looking for a dead rat stinking up her room, when the real stinker was Pink Jasmine. The young blossoms tend to mask this indole effect in the sweet nectar, but a vine full of browning flowers will indeed remind the nose that indoles lurk in this beauty’s shadow.

Now we’re going to play the good news, bad news game. The good news is that this plant is spectacular in bloom, aside from fragrance. Its smothered first with pink buds, then white blooms for a couple months, and lacy green leaves the rest of the year. The bad news is, this plant is particular difficult to get to bloom indoors. You would need a cool space (at least 50 degrees each night) that gets absolutely no artificial light from October to December in order to get buds to set. Once the buds are set, don’t forget to keep it moist and cool to ensure the buds stay and bloom. After all, plants that bloom for only one week before getting too hot and dry are totally a bummer!

Well if you haven’t smelled this one by now- my bets are Lowe’s and Home Depot have it in stock where its warm enough to have plants outside by now. Or any serious greenhouse retailer will carry it in hanging basket form. This is my second to last post on subtropical winter bloomers, as I’ve started noticing Crocus putting up their little heads and Cornelian dogwoods blooming- which means we have officially entered into the warmer part of the year! Thus I need to get started on the outdoor winter bloomers before spring really gets here to make sure I address them all!

Osmanthus

Osmanthus fragrans var. aurantiacus f. thunbergii. KENPEI. Wikimedia Commons.

My long list of Asian early spring bloomers for Southern gardens would be incomplete without this species. Osmanthus is often just a tuck-it-in somewhere bush that sends its fragrance scattering to the four winds, and leaves noses befuddled as to where such a heavenly scent could issue from. The flowers are so small, you could hold a handful of almost a hundred of them, and yet they more than compensate for their size with fragrance. The fragrance is overwhelmingly that of Apricot. Tovah Martin in The Essence of Paradise goes further and says “If you’ve ever indulged in freshly baked apricots swimming in honey, then you might have some inkling as to the intensity of the osmanthus’s nectar.” This is about as accurate as I could ever hope to detail about fragrance, and my nose is in agreeance.

Osmanthus is probably my favorite shrub of all time simply because of the fragrance of the flowers. Its hardy to zone 8, although it can squeak by in zone 7 if under a tall pine or against a warm south wall. The shrub itself is a nice evergreen that does well in part shade, and is an excellent understory plant for woodlands. I wouldn’t hedge them- as they bloom on old-wood, but that is certainly a possible idea for them. They are also good cool-greenhouse plants, but temperamental in windowsills unless you keep your house an even fifty degrees all winter and provide it a good draining medium. They also tend to not fill out well in greenhouses and homes, and are very slow growing- so I would save trying it at home unless you live in a warmer part of the nation and can grow it directly in the ground.

There are also a few other species that are commonly seen in The States, including our native- devilwood, (O. americanus) which I will detail in April when it begins to bloom here. Osmanthus delavayi, O. hetereophyllus, Osmanthus x burkwoodii and Osmanthus x fortunei are also cultivated in the southern tier of the states, but are not as fragrant as O. fragrans and more admired for their visual aesthetic often. They are however hardier, and easier to grow. Osmanthus delavayi can survive temperatures down to zero degrees Fahrenheit and are rarely planted as far north as my home state of Kentucky. This is a late-winter bloomer that knows how to make a show- having the largest flowers of the species (but not the most fragrant sadly.)

Osmanthus delavayi. http://plantmad.blogspot.com.

Most Osmanthus are cool season bloomers. I haven’t heard of any that bloom solely in summer yet- but some cultivars of O. fragrans will have a few sparse flowers in the summer heat. O. fragrans tends to have a long, drawn out show; starting its bloom period with the first cool autumn winds, and ending in late spring. In China and Japan where it is native- they often celebrate its bloom with various autumn festivals, and include it in their diet in the form of tea, liquers, and special cakes made from jam of the boiled down flowers.

I can only imagine deep in the forests of China during autumn how beloved these flowers are. With entire misty forests clouded in the fragrance of an early morning shower and osmanthus, its really no question why the Chinese love this plant so. What other fragrance on earth gives such a euphoria and images of paradise than this? Very few certainly.

Fragrant Daphne

Daphne odora. Miya. Wikimedia Commons.

Lets start off with a little historical fact courtesy of Tovah Martin.  Daphne odora
was one of the first plants to come over to the New World from the Old World, from the botanical ventures of the East India Company. In 1770, Benjamin Torin collected three of the most fragrant plants in the world on his one and only collection trip in 50 years of being there; but as Martin put it- he hit jackpot in that one attempt. The three plants were Daphne odora, Osmanthus fragrans, and Murraya exotica; osmanthus is on my list of plants to critique in the next few days, murraya can wait until June.

If you have seen a pattern to the other plants I’ve talked about lately, then it should come as no surprise that Daphne odora is another Asian native- overlapping the same boundaries as Camellias, Osmanthus, and Pittosporum. To think, all these plants grow and bloom in the Asian woods at the same time-no wonder the Chinese love flowers so! What a pampered nose it must be to have a garden with all these early spring bloomers blooming at the same time in the same space! Well then again, I guess in the deep south this is about the only time you can be outside without melting in the heat, so might as well make it count right?

Alright, onto fragrance. Tovah Martin put Daphne in the same group as jasmines, roses, and violets; plants that have no comparison because they are just that unique. I would agree with that to a degree, as Daphnes are so overwhelmingly fragrant that the nose can be lost in an ecstatic euphoria and not even begin to be able to compare it to anything. The scent really is that powerful- and carries quite a way away from a full blooming plant. I saw my first one grouped by the entrance to a building at Filoli Gardens outside San Jose, California, and thought I would never smell anything so wonderful again. So beautifully perfumed, so feminine, its like its own brand of perfume- bottle it up and apply lightly! Well actually don’t because its highly toxic, but you get what I’m going for. Its almost like Vera Wang perfume actually if I really had to compare it to anything. Take Citrus blossoms and Stargazer Lillies, combine and then add a touch of rose and perhaps a light touch of woods and you get a general idea of what Daphnes smell like.

Daphne, like its many southern blooming buddies, is only hardy to Zone 8- but some hardier species are out there that are also very fragrant. The bush is very pretty when not in flower- resembling Laurels or a similar evergreen. However, they are very difficult to cultivate in gardens and in pots, and it would take a professional to care for it. If the soil drainage and nutrition aren’t perfect, well it just dies. Not that I advise anyone to actually plant Daphnes, as they are so toxic that the plant sap can cause allergic reactions and eczema in sensitive individuals. Not fun!

Daphne mezereum. http://www.gardenoasis.co.uk

The genus is native to much of Mediterranean Europe through Asia, and many species make garden plants. The second most widely grown Daphne would be Daphne mezereum,
native to Europe and growing in many European gardens. It happens to be more content to growing in different conditions and is hardier as well, but still quite toxic! Other species grown include Daphne laureola, Daphne pontica, and Daphne x napolitana. All are fragrant, although differently from odora, yet strongly enough in their own way.

Of all the plants in my selection so far, this has to be the least grown that I’ve seen, which is really quite sad on one hand but probably a good idea. Most people just aren’t lucky with them, even if the soil is right. But with a fragrance like that, it would be well worth the pain in my book!

small post before my nightly one

The cold front came and the temperature dropped but it didn’t stop one little Witch hazel from being fragrant. Temperature does play a difference in flower scents- as this little witch hazel proved to be sweeter than the others even though the fragrance held tightly to the flowers this time. So another thing to test at home is how different flowers smell under different conditions- although it is always less than it is if its warm. Anyhow- onto my next post.

Pittosporum

Pittosporum tobira. http://www.toptropicals.com.

I wish there were more days like today outside. If most March days are a spring tease, today was a Godsend of warmth! It was about 75 degrees earlier and I have the sunburns to show for my long day spent in the beautiful weather (actually it was work related, but still!) While warmth in March is quite brief (as a matter of fact- in only 24 hours it will be below freezing and snowing again) the warmth was enough for a few maples to start blooming- of which I will note their unique fragrance later. Days like today remind me that spring is very close- so I need to finish my subtropical winter weather bloomers quickly!

Pittosporum tobira is another one of those transplanted Asian winter bloomers that southerners will again enjoy out in the element; but of all the plants on the list- it is the easiest to grow in a pot. There are even variegated forms for the indoor gardener, and I’ve seen many of these outdoors in Florida as well. Practically a succulent, Pittosporum tobira grows on many beaches in the south, which was the first and only time I’ve seen this plant in bloom. A few years ago on a spring vacation trip to Hilton Head Island in South Carolina- I stumbled across a big group of Pittosporum tobira bushes on my way down to the beach, and couldn’t believe the scent coming from the flowers! While the plant is often called Japanese Mockorange, it should be called Mock Jasmine instead- as the flowers to my nose smell exactly like Jasmine tea. Others will say orange blossom or lillies; Tovah Martin in The Essence of Paradise said Easter lillies with baby powder and a touch of lemon. Either way, its definitely a good, sweet floral.

Pittosporum are yet another great landscape plant, and are a common sight along the Gulf Coast and in Florida. They are hardy to zone 9, perhaps 8b, and are another plant I would add if I had a southern garden of my own. They bloom outdoors from March through April, and in greenhouses from March until May. The flowers are a creamy white that age to a golden ochre before dropping, adding a visual pleasure to the olfactory one.

Pittosporum eugenioides. http://www.topseeds.co.nz.

Other Pittosporum species in America include many native to Hawaii. Many of the Pittosporum species are also fragrant/night fragrant, and others grown in the states include Pittosporum eugenioides, Pittosporum rhombifolia, and Pittosporum undulatum. Pittosporum undulatum is frequently grown in Mediterranean climates and is seen as a weed in many parts of the world, but it also has a knockout fragrance giving it the name Mock Orange. Pittosporum eugenioides is also heavily fragrant, almost like Cestrum nocturnum, but more chocolate-like. Its so strong, it makes all of Los Angeles partake of its essence during the late winter and early spring. I would have never known it was this plant that made LA smell so wonderful had I not happened to see it at Fairchild gardens back in January and was instantly transported back to LA by the fragrance. Smell is such a wonderful thing for memories, right?

Overall, this is another wonderfully fragrant family with great usage in the landscape and in the fragrance arena. Some of the seeds can make oil, and P. eugenioides has wonderfully lemon-scented leaves as well. So whether you live in California or Florida, go out and sniff out a Pittosporum for me!

 

Going Bananas for Michelia Figo!

Michelia figo. Ashitaka. http://www.flickr.com

In the realm of plant fragrance, we often refer to flowers as having a ‘floral’ or ‘fruity’ fragrance. And then there is Michelia figo- which is so undeniably fragrant of bananas, people simply go..well…bananas over it! And by bananas, I don’t mean ripe splitting the peel banana, I mean banana pudding with whipped cream on top banana. Again, its one of those flowers that goes from being fragrant to edible, and I just don’t think I personally could grow it without constant hunger.

This is yet another plant that northerners without a greenhouse balk over, as southerners get to enjoy this Magnolia relative each winter. Michelia figo is hardy to zone 8, and is a staple of southern botanical gardens. I first smelled it in California at Huntington Botanical Gardens, and have noticed it so many places since then I pretty much quit counting. Being so small, it often is a good landscape filler plant, or specimen under evergreen trees, as its not too demanding otherwise. Its a small bush that happens to bring the wow factor January through March- otherwise its just another green thing to put in the garden bed.

For those not in the south, they happen to be a perfect windowsill and greenhouse plant since they are quite small and compact. Its also not too demanding as an indoor plant, just don’t get crazy with fertilizer and water and it’ll be a reliable winter bloomer for you northerners as well. After all, don’t we all need to go a little bananas when the weather starts finally warming up?

Fragrant Camellia? Its true!

Camellia ‘High Fragrance’. http://www.logees.com

I can just hear it now. A garden tour of some fine Southern plantation with a slightly-past-middle-aged woman drawing out that joyful word in her finest, syrupy southern twang for the ages, while pointing towards a prized potted standard. Camellias are about as southern as Scarlet O’Hara and Brett Butler, even though they are yet another Asian native which has been more successful here than there in terms of landscape plants. While those of us in the North again balk at the Southerner’s ability to cultivate beautiful plants during the season where six inches of snow on the ground is a standard- these plants do remarkably well in cool greenhouses.

Camellias, in addition to being great standards for a Southern garden, happen to be the same genus producing the world’s most widely consumed beverage- tea. I wouldn’t recommend trying to grow your own tea- as a moist, cool, mountainside is what truly brings out the flavor; but it is certainly possible to have a small novelty harvest if you truly are adamant about growing your own. I would instead go for the floral gold that ensures a bright, cheery bloom for those gray days when you really need a reminder that things do indeed grow somewhere this time of year. While you’re at it, go for pleasing the nose as well- since there are now many scented hybrids thanks to the many C. lutchuensis and C. sasanqua crosses. I can’t attest to having actually smelled any of the identified cultivars, but I can attest to their existence.

In Hot Springs, Arkansas, (of all places) there is a small botanical garden which features an impressive stand of Camellia crosses, and it was there that I for the first time ran across a scented hybrid. Actually I ran across a few, one a C. japonica cross, but the others likely a C. lutchuensis or C. yunnanensis cross. The C. japonica hybrid was very beautiful, but the smell was almost like a wax flower- it was so light it would hardly qualify for a spot in the scented garden. The fragrance to me is just very lightly of tea rose- almost like the dew on the petals light. The other hybrids though were more scented, being almost like Hyacinth without the knockout punch, like most scented flowers this season. I believe Tovah Martin made a comment on this phenomenon of most spring flowers being scented in the realm of Hyacinth this time of year in The Essence of Paradise, and I find the accuracy of that comment hilariously true.

In any case, there are many hybrids to choose from for your olfactory fill, in scents ranging from rosy, (as if Camellias aren’t rose-like enough) to honey, and Cinnamon sugar. I recommend going with Logee’s if you’re wanting to buy your own, as they have a good list of greenhouse cultivars available- but please don’t get carried away and start dressing in Antebellum attire and quoting “Gone With the Wind”, that’s the last thing we all need!

 

 

Acacias and International Women’s Day

Acacia farnesiana. Maksim. Wikimedia Commons.

Acacias are a plant Genus that has so many species (and many of them fragrant) that it would take a book to detail them all. There are more than 1500 species and I’ve seen and smelled only about 5 of them. This is mostly due to geography, as Acacias don the dry tropics and deserts of the world, and I’m happily sequestered in the temperate zone. Trips to the Caribbean and desert southwest are in order to find more than the greenhouse specimens; and a trip to Africa and Australia to actually make a dent in observing more of the genera. For most of us in the temperate latitudes, the only Acacias we see are the ones in cool greenhouses and conservatories, where sufficient space and a proper environment is needed to grow these trees.

Two of the best known acacias in the states are Acacia baileyana and Acacia farnesiana. Both can grow outdoors in the warmer parts of Texas, Arizona, Florida, and California (zones 9-11). Others grown in outdoors and in greenhouses include Acacia retinodes, and Acacia dealbata. The later share in common a bloom period during the late winter to early spring part of the year, but the species on the whole has no consistency of bloom period and some are happy bloomers during summer and fall, or just year-round. Of the ones I’ve seen growing in Southern Florida and California, I can attest to them being winter bloomers, but then again I’ve seen a few species in the Caribbean that were summer bloomers as well.

Acacia dealbata. Alberto Salguero Quiles. Wikimedia Commons.

Mimosas, as they are lovingly called, are exceedingly fragrant. Acacia farnesiana and Acacia dealbata are used in the perfume industry under the epithet of ‘Cassie’ and don the scents of everything from perfumes to soaps. Acacia dealbata are also used for cut flowers, and bouquet fillers for International Women’s Day- which happens to be today ironically. I swear I did not plan this on purpose! The scent is exceedingly honey-like, which must be why bees love it so. A full blooming Acacia dealbata carries a way on the wind, particularly in the evening, leaving the garden with a sweetness beyond compare. I happened to catch one in full bloom at Fairchild back in January as the sun was going down, and couldn’t believe the intensity of the sweetness coming from the prolific golden blooms. I could have stayed all evening if the staff wouldn’t have thrown me out.

Other acacias share this sweetness, and go between being honey-like to being of the same essence as violets. I remember catching one blooming Acacia one summer in St. Croix in the U.S. Virgin Islands that was nearly scentless by day, but by night was full-on scented like a mixture of violet and gardenia. I to this day have no idea which one of the thousand plus species it was, but if I had my own tropical garden- I would certainly have it! This is one of the few plants our friend down under have a one-up on us at, and I am fairly jealous of them for that. But you Australians can happily keep all your poisonous critters and we’ll take your best botanical assets in the meantime!

Carolina Jessamine

Gelsemium sempervirens. http://www.colesvillenursery.com/plant/gelsemium-sempervirens-butterscotch. 

Of all the subtropical bloomers I plan to cover, this one happens to be the only truly native one, but how fitting it is we get such a darling vine as our one true native plant! As a matter of fact- this plant is so common to the Southern tier of the United States that it is the state flower of South Carolina, and dawns every trellis from Spartanburg to Charleston. In Little Rock, Arkansas, (where my uncle lives) I’ve noticed a few flowers blooming around Thanksgiving, but the real crescendo happens from late February on. In truth, this vine is native from the highlands of Guatemala up to Virginia, so its bloom period could be noted as during the dry season; thus in warmer climes its an all-winter affair. If you’re not quite tropical, like most of the south, you will only see blooms on warmer days in winter, where the cheery yellow blossoms are a great match for the pale winter sun.

The good news about this plant is that during its bloom period, it is smothered with flowers that is a true sight to behold- the vine practically turns yellow from all the flowers! The bad news is that it happens to be rather toxic, so its not a plant you want around if you happen to have curious children or pets that might pick at or eat the various plant parts. I would even tell people to avoid having it as an indoor or greenhouse plant for this matter and go for the actual Jasmines if you want a fragrant vining plant as household companion. It does however make an excellent trellis specimen if you happen to find yourself in zone 7 and south! It certainly makes a statement with both sight and scent and is prize-winning landscape companion worth the spot in the manicured southern garden.

The scent overall is very candy-like. To me it has that standard subtropical winter-bloomer sweetness that is redolent of sugary jawbreakers, or perhaps a light hyacinth essence. Its definitely a clear, liveable smell, without the ability to cloy, but its not one of my favorites by a long-shot. It does carry well and is perceptible from yards away when bedecked with blooms, and certainly a standard in the fragrant garden. If I had a pergola and happened to be located in the south, I would certainly grow it, but with other climbers for more year-round interest. Outside the bloom period, it has very nice dark green leaves, but the real interest point is certainly the flowers. They are fragrant only by day (unlike their namesake, true Jasmine), so enjoy while the sun is out, as a nice winter blessing!