Lilies pt. 3- Night-Fragrant Lilies

Lilium nepalense. http://davesgarden.com.

Lilium regale. 2007. Epibase. Wikimedia Commons.

Last in my detail of fragrant lilies are those that are only or moreso fragrant at night. The lilies in question are most fragrant or solely fragrant at night. In a sense, most lilies are more fragrant at night, but L. regale and L. nepalense are more impressive than the rest in the olfactory department, and provide a good segway into my next series of posts about night fragrant plants.

I cannot attest to having sampled L. nepalense, because it does not easily grow in Kentucky, but it is a solely night fragrant plant, and heavily so. This lily is native to the Himalayas and prefers cool and moist climates (something this area is not!) These lilies are also very different from all detailed so far in that they are stoloniferous as opposed to bulbous, and have a very unique color scheme, being green on the outside of the petal and reddish-chocolate colored on the inside. These lilies grow well in coastal California and the Pacific Northwest above zone 8, otherwise are cool-greenhouse plants.

Next is L. regale, the regal lily from China. This is a more typical lily of the family, although growing up to seven feet, with beautiful six inch flowers in white (outside petals purplish) with yellow throats. While these lilies are day fragrant, they increase at night, giving their wonderfully sweet, musky scent to the night garden (they are in the same clan as Easter lilies if that gives an indication of the fragrance.) L. regale is also one of the easiest lilies to grow in the garden, and the University of Kentucky arboretum has a few in its inner garden areas. Because these lilies are rather large, they do require staking, but are bound to be any fragrant gardener’s best friend otherwise!

Many more lily posts could be made than the three I have, but again, this is a genus that I frankly am not prepared to handle as there are so many single cultivars and hybrids that are wonderfully fragrant. Luckily, lilies are going nowhere, and many more wonderful hybrids await to be made in the gardening world! Starting next are night-fragrant flowers in my sad attempt to keep up with Tovah Martin’s The Essence of Paradise selection for July. Gardeners beware, the intense fragrance that awaits the night air.

Roses pt. 4- Invasive Introductions to the United States

Rosa multiflora. David G. Smith. 2009. http://www.discoverlife.org.

Roses are a gardener’s delight most of the time. What’s not to love about the beautiful flowers and heavenly scent? Maybe the thorns are a bit much, but every rose must have its thorn right? Well, some roses are a thorn in our side as horticulturalists, landscapers, and conservationists. Unfortunately, some roses have gone on to escape cultivation by throttling the underbrush of the countryside, particularly in the Southeastern United States. Their thorny nature and sprawling habit make them hard to pull out of unwanted places, and only come back when having been pulled out. Yes, unfortunately its true, some roses are a NIGHTMARE!

Some will never find anything bad to say about roses, but I for one have a problem with R. multiflora. The multiflora rose is a thorn in my side, as I often come across them having to weed garden beds. While the multiflora rose is not the worst offender when it comes to thorns, they grow relatively quickly. The plant is unassuming at first, being a weedy, thorny, sprawling rose, growing to be ten feet tall by fifteen feet wide at their largest. The rose flowers come in corymbs of small white single flowers or pink multiple flowers (this is another variety actually- v. cathayensis.) The plant spreads by its abundant seeds in the red hips that adorn the plant throughout the winter- birds love to eat them and spread them in their feces.

This rose was introduced from Asia in an environment quite like that of the Southeastern United States. Introduced as a conversation measure for erosion control, it quickly spread to being everywhere in the disturbed parts of the lower Appalachians. It is considered now a noxious weed, unfit for cultivation in its range. The flowers fragrance is not worth saving, as its too light to appreciate otherwise, and makes no impact when grown in cluster on the nose or the eye.

Rosa laevigata. Daderot. 22 April 2011. Wikimedia Commons.

Another rose that has been introduced, but is not as hated, is the Cherokee rose. This rose is from farther south in Asia, closer to Southern China, Taiwan, and Vietnam, giving it a limited hardiness range in the United States (generally to zone 8.) Where this evergreen climbing rose will grow, it will grow in abundance, but it is not beyond salvation. This rose has a very unique fragrance for a rose, almost as sweet as Gardenia, and makes for an excellent climbing rose on trellises. This rose tends to bloom white, with large identifiable blooms from a ways away, and nice yellow stamens, making for a brilliant impact.

This rose has been linked to the Trail of Tears in U.S. history, and more recently, has been featured in the Walking Dead. It is the state flower of Georgia (although if we were going to make any introduced flower the state flower of Georgia it should be the Crepe Myrtle, but I digress…) where it grows nicely.

Truth by told, many of the roses introduced could be invasive to the U.S. in one place or another. One example is the dog rose, R. canina of Europe, another favorite of English poets, as it grew very nearly everywhere in the countryside in its day. Its invasive to cooler parts of the Eastern U.S., but is not as noxious as the others above. This particular rose also has a nice rose scent, and its hips make excellent jams. Hopefully, the next post will wrap up roses as I do wild ones to the United States, then its on to lillies!

 

Catalpa and Paulownia

Catalpa bignonioides. Le.Loup.Gris. Wikimedia Commons.

There are many copycats in the plant world, between plant families in particular, but also those outside. Both Paulownia and Catalpa share a similar look, growth habit, and flower shape- which is why I decided to lump the two together in one post. Oh and their fragrances are nearly identical as well. They are in different plant families and come from different areas, but with similar ecoregions.

Lets start with Catalpas. Catalpa is native to the Eastern U.S. and Caribbean, with a few species in Asia as well. The trees grow up to sixty feet and have large, heart-shaped leaves, and large, foxglove-like flowers. The flowers are followed by long, cigar-shaped bean pods. The wood of the tree is soft and branches rather brittle. The tree makes a wonderful specimen planting for its showy nature, but the seed pods are difficult to clean up after winter.

The two American species are the most popularly planted. C. bignonioides is the Southern Catalpa, native to central Alabama, but planted largely throughout the Eastern U.S. C. speciosa, the Northern Catalpa, is native to the Mississippi and Ohio river confluence region, but is also widely grown throughout the Eastern U.S. The trees are identical, save for the Northern Catalpa is less floriferous, but has larger, and more fragrant flowers. Northern Catalpa is also slightly more hardy, but both are hardy to zone 5. The fragrance is described as being sweet-pea like, but I tend to think it more on a jasmine side. In either case, it is sweet, but a fragrance that does not lend itself to spreading through air. The trees bloom from May to June, maybe as early as April in zones 8-9, and as late as July in zone 5.

Paulownia tomentosa. Famartin. Wikimedia Commons.

Paulownia, or Princess tree, is a stately tree in a landscape, but is unfortunately invasive in the Southeastern U.S. One drive down Interstate 75 from London, Kentucky to Knoxville, Tennessee is enough to verify this. It is another Asian native, with cultural significance in China and Japan, where the Genus originates. Paulownia is nearly identical to Catalpa, but grows larger, and flowers earlier in spring, with purple flowers that are larger than Catalpa blooms. The winged seeds come in egg-shaped capsules born after flower dessication. The trees have this distinction of producing extremely large leaves when in its early-growth stages, or after the tree is cut back. In these years, the tree does not flower.

The flowers are a light lavender color, blooming in mid-to-late April and early May for two weeks (Catalpa blooms later in the season for much longer). The fragrance takes a cue from Catalpa, but throws in a strong vanilla fragrance to boot, and unlike Catalpa, generously fills the garden with its scent. The wood from Paulownia has a strong significance in Japanese art as well, and is one of more the more utilized woods for crates and chests, as it is very light and workable, much like Catalpa. Lastly, it does have agroforestry uses, but is best in its home range in China and Japan.

If one were to compare the use of the trees side-by-side, its best to air with Catalpa in the states, as its native to the region, and has more colorful flowers.

Well May has come to and end, and I’m sad about how many plants I didn’t get to this month but there is always the future right? Tomorrow will be a post about the wonderful month of June and what plants to expect then!

 

Mid-spring Magnolias

Magnolia liliiflora. Thilo Machotta. Wikimedia Commons.

By the time this post is finished, the Mid-spring Magnolias will be finished blooming in my location, but just opening in cities north of me warm enough to still support these refined bloomers. In the world of Mid-spring bloomers, two species of Magnolia command the attention of all the senses: Magnolia liliiflora, Tulip Magnolia, and Magnolia x soulangeana, Saucer Magnolia. Both begin their blooms right after the Star magnolias and Yulan Magnolias have peaked, and provide the show the bridges the gap between Asian and American bloomers, Early and Late Spring bloomers.These trees are very common standard specimens in gardens and yards all across my city, as well as many others in the Eastern United States.

M. liliiflora is native to Southwest China, where it grows in the mountains and hills of the area, gracing the spring with its magnificent pinkish-purple flowers. The bloom period is much longer than other Magnolias I’ve written about thus far, opening in late March and early April with a large, magnificent display, and blooming on and off through the summer and fall. In essence, as long as leaves are on the tree, a bloom will abound somewhere; with the heaviest bloom coming with the opening of the leaves. Magnolia x soulangeana is a hybid of M. liliiflora and Yulan Magnolia, and it is the widest-planted spring-blooming Magnolia species planted worldwide. Like its parents, the tree blooms before the leaves open in early April, often just after the Yulan Magnolias. It has wonderful pinkish flowers that absolutely bedeck the trees, making for an unforgettable sight, like something on a fine Chinese porcelain! However its bloom period is much shorter, only being two to three weeks before yielding to leaves the rest of the summer.

Magnolia x soulangeana. Jean Tosti. Wikimedia Commons.

The trees take their cue in scent more from the later bloomers, being strongly Citrusy, but like a fine refined perfume nonetheless. Magnolia x soulangeana is a hybid of M. liliiflora and Yulan Magnolia, taking its scent from both and making a sophisticated citrusy pefume, that reminds me of the scent of the Churches in Moscow with the incense of earlier services lingering heavily on the air. The fragrance of a blooming Saucer Magnolia carries far in the air on the breeze, creating an amazing lemony-sweetness that envelops an area as large as the wind allows it to spread. Tulip Magnolia is a little more reserved with its fragrance, and adds a bit of musk to the essence, overall coming off much like its summer blooming brothers.

Lastly, the two are small trees that require room in the garden. Its common to see them growing against houses in my area, but this is actually harmful for these trees! Give them plenty of room to spread out their branches and roots- at least a twenty foot diameter. Exceptional Saucer Trees will grow to be forty or more feet tall, but this requires quite immaculate soil to accomplish. In either case, these are yet another two trees no fragrance garden should be without, or any spring garden nonetheless.

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.