Recently added to future post list

I recently got a copy of The Essence of Paradise by Tovah Martin, without whose inspiration (and The Fragrant Path by Louise Beebe Wilder) I would not have this blog. Anyways I was flipping through her winter plants selection and added Acacia, Camellia, and Michelia figo to my own list to cover in terms of tropical and subtropical winter bloomers before the outdoors season kick in. When I get my copy of The Fragrant Path I will undoubtedly have more to cover as well. Happy smellings!

Citrus flowers

Citrus x sinensis. Ellen Levy Finch. Wikimedia Commons.

One could easily write a book about Citrus and what the genera has done for the fragrance industry. Citrus are easily the most useful and versatile plants in perfume because so many parts can be used. There is Neroli oil, which is distilled from the blossoms of the bitter orange tree (Citrus x aurantium), one of the most common oils used in perfumery; petitgrain oil, distilled from the leaves and green branches of the same species; and finally, the citrus oils themselves used in all kinds of flavorings, air fresheners, etc. Again, it would take an entire book to talk about the many uses of all the different Citrus species in perfumery, and the flavor and scent profiles of each plant. There are so many species and crosses (some which we probably haven’t even discovered yet) to detail, it becomes a logistical nightmare to catalog them all.

Even the scents of each have different profiles, much like the taste of the fruits. While one can easily say it has a citrus and sour taste, they are actually much more complex than merely being citrusy or sour. The flowers very delicately echo this phenomena, each having a very similar scent, but slight differences worth noting. I’m not even going to pretend I have smelled the flowers of each Citrus genera and cross, but I can certainly attest to the big four: lemons, limes, oranges, and grapefruit. To get an idea of the difference, its about like it is with the taste of the fruits. Subtract the sourness and you begin to get an idea of the subtleties of the unique sweetness of each.

One thing these plants have in common besides their popularity is their bloom period- its normally in the dead of winter. This actually is a bonus for us since we get to appreciate their fragrance in greenhouses this time of year when not much else is blooming, but also is a bonus for the bees that pollinate them since there is not much competition around. Another post entirely could be made for the honey difference from each of the flowers, but I’m not even nearly confident enough to address that either! While us northerners are derelict to only growing them in greenhouses, our neighbors to the very deep South and California get to enjoy growing them outside where law permits. For those who don’t know- if you live in certain Citrus-producing counties in the South, it is illegal to grow your own citrus plants for fear of disease outbreak and cross-pollination, so please make sure you are legally allowed to grow your own citrus before you attempt it!

Now there are such thing as hardy citrus, the hardiest being Trifolate orange, (Poncirus trifoliata) that are hardy to zone 5 (Chicago, Milwaukee, Detroit, Cleveland, etc.,) but the fruits are not edible and are very sour/bitter. The plants do have sweetly fragrant spring-blooming flowers, and spicily-scented leaves however, so its not quite useless beyond the novelty factor.

Poncirus trifoliata. Kurt Stüber. Wikimedia commons.

Now for the subtleties in the flowers of the big four. I can compare fruits and petitgrain oils in another post to save this one from being too lengthy, as well as a list of fragrance comparisons (i.e. lemon verbena smelling like lemons, etc.) Lemons (Citrus x limon and Citrus x meyeri)  are actually a rarity among other citrus plants, since they have more than two bloom periods and flowers can appear with fruit. The flowers are often purple-tinted and sweeter than orange blossoms to my nose, with a definite lemony-flair along with the standard orange blossom fragrance. Limes (Citrus aurantifolia and Citrus x latifolia) are the easiest to grow in indoor containers as they are smaller than the other citrus species, and also feature purple-tinged flowers like lemons and grapefruit. An added bonus of key limes (C. aurantifolia) is that they are in essence ever-bloomers in warmer climates and provide a steady stream of flowers and fruits (other lime species may show this characteristic but I’m not 100% positive on any one cross or subspecies.) The fragrance of lime blossoms is much more delicate than any of the other big three, with a light lime scent in addition to the standard orange blossom sweetness. The lime flower essence does not carry as much as the others but makes a wonderful blossom water.

Orange blossoms are the prototype to explain the scent of the blossoms of others, as well as provide a comparison for the scent of many other plants called Mock Orange. Orange (Citrus × sinensis) and its many crosses are a perfumers delight since the flowers have a sweetness like heaven itself that provides the nose with a certain pleasure during the cruel winter weather. How does one explain the fragrance? Sweet doesn’t even cut it. Honey-like is closer; heavenly even halfway true. Delectable maybe? Ok, its like fresh laundry covered in honey and sugar, with a very light essence of orange minus the sour overtones. While many plants want to try to claim their scent to be like orange blossom, they really don’t come close to matching its sweetness, and ultimately one just has to smell it for themselves to get the real picture.

Last is Grapefruit. Citrus × paradisi is much more known for the unique sourness of its fruit than the scent of its flowers, but oh my if they aren’t the most fragrant of all the Citrus! Maybe it is because like the fruits, the flowers are also larger, thus the scent must be grander to compensate. The scent is almost exactly like orange blossom, but stronger and without the slight citrus tone- it is just marvelous! It has been a few years since I have smelled grapefruit flowers, since the plant is not as readily grown as the other big three citrus, but I remember the scent like it was just yesterday- permeating the entire greenhouse of the nursery where they were being grown. The scent carries much farther than other citrus species I have encountered to date, and I would love to try the honey coming from these flowers above all other citrus honey. Who ever knew the most sour of the big four citrus would be the sweetest flowering one?

If Citrus isn’t the single-most useful angiosperm Genus on the planet, I would be very surprised to see what overtakes it. Aside from the usefulness of the leaves in Asian cuisine, and palatability of the fruits; the plants are worth growing for the scent of the flowers alone. Anyone with a greenhouse would be seriously remiss without at least one citrus plant in it. One more interesting point to mention- if you happen to eat Miracle fruit (Synsepalum dulcificum) before eating Citrus, the fruits lose all their sourness and taste almost exactly the way the flowers smell. It is a neat way to enjoy the true sweetness the fruits offer.

Tornado drills and tropical winter bloomers

Bauhinia variegata. J.M. Garg. Wikimedia Commons.

Dombeya x cayeuxii. Daniel Mosquin. http://www.botanicalgarden.ubc.ca.

If you want to know what irony is- my state had its annual state-wide tornado drill today. I happened to be driving back from a work-related meeting when the drill started. I started hearing the tornado sirens as I was stopped at a light and cracked the window to listen. I caught the tail end of the drill right as a few snow flakes started falling, and I really wish I could bottle up the irony in that scene for future reference. Keep in mind there’s still 4 inches of snow on the ground and it was below freezing at the time. Starting about now and going through the end of April is the worst of our tornado season, so while it makes sense to test the sirens before it gets really kicking, I can’t help but laugh at the fact that of all the days to test the sirens, it would be today.

Anyhow, today’s topic is tropical winter bloomers. There is quite a long list to choose from but today represents two of the ones I know best. Bauhinias are called Tree Orchids or Hong Kong Orchids, and come from that general part of the world. Dombeyas are a tropical African species, and if they aren’t called Tropical Hydrangeas, they might as well be. Both are more or less winter bloomers (I would say dry season but that gets confusing outside the tropics) and are the enjoyment of many in the tropics at the current time. I happened to find both blooming in Florida at Fairchild Botanic Gardens back in January and have seen Dombeya blooming in March in California. Both are impressive not only in fragrance but also color. While those in the tropics are never in want for color or fragrance when it comes to flowers any time of year, we Northerners gasp at the sight of such vivid and fragrant gems.

Now for the best part! Bauhinia comes in several species, but the one I have seen most are the ones above- Bauhinia variegata. A mix of purple and pink flowers between 2 and 4 inches long that beg to be put in arrangements, they have a very floral scent. Its reminiscent of roses and lilies to my nose, or perhaps a fine oolong tea. Its a very familiar and nostalgic scent that is quite piercing, and in the garden carries for a ways on the wind, but is entirely pleasant to the nose. For me, it is the scent of Florida winters- not Citrus as one would imagine. Oh that reminds me I ought to write about Citrus while I’m at it….maybe some other time!

Dombeya also comes in several species, with the pink-flowered ones being the most observed in the states. The plant alone is worth growing, as it has very nice, large leaves, and a large, fast growth habit. Dombeya x cayeuxii and related D. wallichii have large, Hydrangea-like balls of flowers that are quite visually stunning in bloom. A single cluster is enough to fill a hand and then some, and then there is the scent. I’ve never encountered a flower scent I would ever describe as buttery, but this has to be the one exception. Its like a nice creamy treat with a floral kick. I don’t think I can truly convey the sweetness of it, but it crosses the border from floral to making me hungry, and very few flowers do that!  The scent doesn’t carry like Bauhinia does, but I don’t mind cozying up to its impressive flowers! A small warning though- bees tend to like it as much as humans, so if you happen to be allergic it might be a good  idea to admire at a distance.

So if you happen to find yourself in the warmer latitudes during the winter months, indulge yourself in some winter nosegays. We northerners will be jealous while waiting for our lilacs and peonies to remind us why we stand to live somewhere so cold.

 

Future posts

I hope I’m not posting too often. This one is easy- a list of late winter bloomers I hope to cover before spring plants roll in. Most are subtropical plants and I don’t want to miss the opportunity to write about them.

Acacia sp.
Bauhinia sp.
Camellia sp.
Citrus sp.
Daphne odora
Gelsemium sempervirens
Jasminum polyanthum
Michelia figo
Osmanthus fragrans
Pittosporum tobira and P. undulatum

if I’m forgetting any winter bloomers let me know!

Those little cloying things

Narcissus papyraceus. Ceasol. Wikimedia Commons.

I had a long post that accidentally got deleted, so I might be slightly fuming over the big long post that just killed itself and be paying absolutely no attention to grammar when writing this, so be warned. Anyways, the other day I walked into my local Grocery store and saw those forced bulbs that make me cringe every year- Paperwhites. Paperwhites are essentially tiny, early blooming Daffodils which make up in fragrance what they lack in size. Part of me rejoices in seeing the tiny reminders of spring approaching, and then part of me cringes when my nose perceives what my eyes already have. Paperwhites are categorically thrown into my group of cloying plants that I wish people would just stop growing. Paperwhites and their categorical cousins, Hyacinths, are on my ‘do not buy’ list for one single reason- indoles. Indoles are chemicals which, to my nose, smell like well-used cat litter- fetid! However, not everyone can perceive the indole smell. Its said that pregnant women, and even women on their periods, are particularly sensitive to musky and fetid aromas, and I don’t doubt it has something to do with hormones. Men though do have an ability to perceive scents powerfully as well, which is why the most famous ‘noses’ in perfume businesses are men. I guess I was blessed with the ability to pick up the indole scent, but I would rather not have it for times like this.

While I personally cannot stand the scent of paperwhites for the indoles, people love them. Either they can’t perceive them, or just plain don’t care about it. I get a splitting headache at the odor, particularly in a warm stuffy room; but some people are just in heaven over the scent. Hyacinths are the same way- overly cloying, yet sweet enough to fly off store shelves every year. While Hyacinths to my nose aren’t fetid, they are just too strong, and one whiff from across the room is good enough for me for the year. I rejoice at seeing growing things again, but I also cringe at the fact that these plants are winding up in the hands of people who have no understanding of how to care for forced bulbs. Not that they’re particularly hard to care for, I just think any wasted plant is a loss.

Overall, paperwhites aren’t going away anytime soon unfortunately, but I can at least relish that their larger flowering relatives are going to be opening up outside soon. Maybe I can just avoid grocery shopping for the meantime…Its Lent anyways right?

Dull Winter Days

My front porch.

Here in my home town of Lexington, Kentucky, winter is still holding currently holding firm, but now would be a good time to say that winter itself has its own scents indoors and out. While the holidays are fraught with the scents wafting from the kitchen and Christmas trees, outside its about as dead as, well, everything growing outside is when its below 20 and with 4 inches of snow on the ground.

However, I have noticed that winter has its own smell, and I don’t mean the reminiscent memories of Christmas ham and Frasier Fir. Fresh air is plentiful with cold winds from the north blowing in after a light snow, and the crisp chill has a certain muteness, but distinctness. This crispness, like many things, has no certain pinpoint but to me is reminiscent of freshly crushed myrtle without the tinge of eucalyptus. Falling snow itself has such a wonderful scent that is unique and I’m truly at a loss of words to describe its scent. Similar enough to rain but more pure and crisp, it just defies real explanation. However, fresh falling snow is always associated to my nose with wood smoke from the burning fires of cuddling lovers in their warm, decorated fireplaces in their cozy houses. Woodsmoke has no one universal scent, but around here its usually an ash/maple/oak mix lending their respective woody rustiness to the air. The occasional  cherry and pine smoke round out the winter wood scents, cherry being the most fragrant woodsmoke one comes across in this region; its sweetness pairing nicely with the crisp air and sending ones sniffling nose into a sniffing nose that forgets the chill.

While winter is easily the most overlooked season of scents, it is perhaps the most mysterious of them all since a small olfactory delight in this trying season is enough to overcome the dull days and remind us that it is just another season to be treasured. When the nose isn’t bleeding from the dry air that is!

Winter Blahs

As I write this post- it is about 10 degrees outside (and no I don’t mean Celsius either) and there’s about 5 inches of gross white stuff of the ground. I would have said snow but its more like snow, sleet, and pure mother nature hatred. Ok, ok, all facetiousness aside, winter can really be a dull time for several reasons, and like many people I anticipate spring’s arrival. I don’t mind the slow start to spring as it builds the anticipation, but I also don’t want it to warm up drastically overnight for two reasons: A nice, slow start to spring allows plants the proper bloom period, as cool temperatures prolong blooming and doesn’t shock the flower buds into opening and dropping too early. Also we get to enjoy them longer, but back to my first point; when we in Kentucky have had springs that have started too early, we unfortunately get late frosts that zap all the energy the poor unsuspecting plants put into a 5 am spring awakening.

In 2007, we experienced what would probably be remembered as the worst late-season cold snap in a long time. After weeks of warm, spring-like weather, the bottom fell out…of the thermometer, and saw temperatures on Easter morning that year in the upper teens and low twenties with 2 inches of snow on the ground. I guess the Easter bunny was wearing his fuzzy slippers that year? Alas, many of the fruit trees in the area were in full flower prior to this cold bout, and all the trees were damaged by the freeze. Crop losses were immense, and if I wasn’t being the least bit lazy tonight I would find the exact values, but the point of the matter is a later start to spring is sometimes better! 

I find that later starts to spring also come with much warmer weather much too soon and it skips from winter to summer with very little spring weather in between. In 2011, it was cold all of March and then around first week of April the weather turned positively balmy with temperatures in the upper 70’s. The flowers did not have time to keep up with the warming temps and many flowers finished their bloom cycles in as little as 2 weeks! I don’t think I’ve seen Daffodils bloom next to Lilacs and probably won’t be again…here anyways. Something similar happened back in 2012, although a bit earlier followed by a cold snap similar to 2007. That year I had a class trip during my Spring break, which was spent between Milwaukee and Chicago, and in shorts! If someone had told me that it could be 84 degrees in Chicago during March I would have probably laughed in their face, but it was. This was also the week after the tornadoes that destroyed Henryville, Indiana, and West Liberty, Kentucky (and then it promptly snowed 5 inches- nothing unusual for March in KY).

In all, while I’m about as through with winter as everyone else is, I don’t mind for spring to come on slowly. It means more time for me to write about all the flowers opening in progression, and my nose will thank mother nature for not having to run an olfactory marathon.

Winter Bloomers introduction-witch hazel

Witch-hazel in the Fürth Stadtpark (Germany) from the wikipedia page

Winter flowers are a rarity outside the tropics in the cold latitudes but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist! Take for example Witch Hazel (Hamamelis virginiana and H. mollis) shown above which graces the coldest of days with its presence. I was just in Washington DC last week for a visit and was surprised to see many bushes of winter-blooming witch hazels (H. mollis mostly) already blooming..and promptly coated with an inch of snow. While the flowers are hardy- they are only fragrant on warmer days. At the University of Kentucky, my lovely alma mater, I remember often walking outside the library by a small patch of H. virginiana, which favors fall blooming, and would relish in the ethereal scent that was only detectable on the wind. The fragrance is hard to describe, as one would assume it is the natural scent of the fall wind, like a fine Japanese incense. Spicily fragrant and very fresh, like the whole autumn season itself, I can only describe it as dusty and slightly spiced, strangely herbal or soapy medicinal. It is possible to crush the flower petals to get the scent when the weather doesn’t cooperate, but isn’t it fun to play hide-and-seek with fragrant flowers?

This time of year one is more apt to see/smell H. mollis in bloom, with its small reddish-orange petals and lightly sweet fragrance that combines autumn spices with an early spring-like sweetness. I happened to come by one fully in bloom at the University of Kentucky one February day last year and couldn’t believe how far the sweetness carried on the wind. It was actually the sweetness that attracted my attention to it as I couldn’t believe anything so sweet would be blooming so early in the year, and I first thought it was some maple rather than a witch hazel. If you happen to live in the Eastern US- you may be lucky enough to have an encounter with this plant this time of year; and if lucky enough to catch it on the wind, be in for one rare ephemeral treat indeed!