Fragrant Earth

Whiffs and kitsch. A good olfactory blog.

Monthly Archives: March 2014


by Leave a comment

Daffodils pt. 2- jonquils

Image
Narcissus jonquilla. Cillas. Wikimedia commons.

What can one say about jonquils without quoting many a poet? This is a plant known wide and far in literary circles, and can anyone blame poets for not writing such sundries about it? Jonquils are a florists treat in early spring, and the nose’s road to paradise. While they are native to Southwestern Europe, they have naturalized in temperate areas the world over, and don many the winter and spring garden. They are not as well represented in gardens as their larger brother the daffodil, but I daresay they ought to be considering their fragrance.

Jonquils and their allies, the tazetta and poet’s daffodils; are small cupped- i.e. the corolla of the daffodil (the cup) is smaller than the larger daffodil (N. pseudonarcissus), and the flowers themselves are smaller. They grow much like daffodils, but the fragrance is much more pronounced in the smaller flowers than in the larger ones, and with a much sweeter note. The small cupped daffodils of the jonquilla and poeticus tribe are used to make essential oils for perfume production in France- it is said the scent is a combination of jasmine and hyacinth, which I find to be fairly accurate according to my personal sense of smell.

Image
Narcissus poeticus ‘Recurvus’. Meneerke bloem. Wikimedia commons.

In terms of looks, the poeticus group is the most visually stunning of the small cups, with a tint of red in the cup compared to yellows, whites, and oranges of the others.They have a scent much like jonquils, but are more visually appealing for the garden in my opinion.  A hybrid between the tazettas (Paperwhites) and poeticus group exists called N. x medioluteus, which lacks the red tint, but does have a superb fragrance that is not as musky as paperwhites.

Filoli Gardens, in the Bay region of California, has a European style Narcissus field full of the many species listed between yesterday and today, and to catch the garden in full bloom is a delight beyond compare. The very air seems to glow with the scent and pollen of the thousands of Narcissus flowers, and the sweet Musk is truly that which is beyond compare. I was lucky to see this field in 2010 and my nose has not let me forget even after these 4 years. I would give anything to bask in the fragrance of a field of jonquils and Daffodils again! The delight to the nose is second to that of a pergola of Jasmine, and just ahead of a grouping of Ylang ylang in my mind. One note of mention, certain Narcissus are only fragrant by day, while others grow in intensity by evening. Jonquils and poeticas tend to increase towards evening, but Daffodils are paperwhites are all but scentless by sundown. Then again it is too early in the year for night fragrant gardens, but I still do find it a small inconvenience for the average working person.

Well I don’t know how the next few days will shake up in my world between the travels I plan on taking in the next few days, but if I get to them- I plan to cover Mahonia, and spring flowering Magnolia before jumping into the April bulbs.


by Leave a comment

The many many Narcissus

Image
Daffodil field in South East Cornwall. Mark Robinson. Wikimedia Commons.

Daffodils are quite the common sight this time of year in the Southeast US and warmer parts of Europe (where they originate). Winter being unusually prolonged this year has halted the majority blooms from opening up until April here, which is rather unusual even for cold years as they are the first large bulbs to bloom reliably each year.The fragrance is the mid-spring fragrance I associate with spring finally having come to my part of the world, with a sweet, musky, and earthy olfactory trinity. The flowers are easy to grow and care for for the most part, and I’ve seen them growing in even the worst types of soil and still blooming reliably.

Image
Narcissus pseudonarcissus. Johnathan J. Stegeman. Wikimedia commons.

There are so many different types and species, that the easiest way for me to talk about them is for me to split them myself between the large cupped and small cupped species. There does exist a list of horticultural divisions of the species- check the wikipedia page for info. For the large-cupped species, the most common garden ones are N. psuedonarcissus– native to Western Europe, and growing in woodlands and crags all over the continent, wild or not. They are called wild daffodils for this reason, and lenten lilies due to their bloom period coinciding with Lent. These particular plants also last so long in the garden that one would think them native to old estates in the US as well, where a certain planting could easily be over 50 to 100 years old, surviving from the bulbs and their propagules planted so long ago.

There are many subspecies and hybrids to choose from, and they all share the characteristic earthy sweet scent with a fine musk, that even perfumes the air when grown in clusters. They come mostly in yellow and white and last for a couple weeks usually before burning out and being replaced by other bulbs.

Image
Narcissus minor var. conspicuus. Daniel Mosquin. http://www.botanicalgarden.ubc.ca

N. minor is the other main large-bulbed daffodil grown, and has a fragrance unlike its brother N. psuedonarcissus that is much more variable depending on the cultivar. Wilder makes note of this in The Fragrant Path, and talks about different species being scented like vanilla, magnolia, cowslips, or musk. I certainly can see all of these and have smelled enough to agree myself with this. These are often the grocery store daffodil bulbs, as they are a tad bit smaller and sweeter than N. psuedonarcissus, but not any less dazzling in the garden! Tomorrow (hopefully) I will get to the jonquils, as they are sweeter than their larger brothers. I would be remiss if March went by and I didn’t talk about them!

 


by Leave a comment

Lack of posts

I apologize for my lack of posts, I’ve had some stressful things distracting me from doing any thoughts about flowering plants and fragrance. It doesn’t help that winter is holding on this year and not allowing for any more blooming plants to come. Although I did see some burgeoning Magnolia stellata buds that look to open as soon as spring actually arrives.

Lastly, I will be in Russia for a week starting friday so I probably won’t have time to make posts then. If I make it out to Moscow Botanical Gardens I will certainly make a list of species I noticed there.


by Leave a comment

Early spring scent combinations

Do you remember when I said I hated the scent of Hyacinth? Well my visit to Michler’s greenhouse in downtown Lexington the other day convinced my nose otherwise. They happened to have a bunch of blooming Hyacinths in the same house as a blooming gardenia, multiple Citrus plants, and some fragrant violets. I think I like Hyacinths now 🙂

The combination was so amazingly sweet and floral, it goes down as my new early spring favorite- before it was Daphne + Osmanthus + blooming Holly. Anyways the mingling of scents is a wonderful things, as long as they mix well I suppose. Still researching wildflowers but the late start to spring hasn’t pushed any up yet so might have to wait on those.


by 1 Comment

Unexpected fragrance

Image
Acer saccharum. Sten Porse. Wikimedia commons.

Sometimes a fragrance is so unexpected it has that novelty value that makes up for scent quality. This is arguably the case with Maples, as they have a few species with a springtime fragrance that is so ethereal, it goes quickly into the novelty category. A full blooming red (Acer rubrum) or sugar maple ( Acer saccharum) is enough to convince the nose that spring is here even when snow is on the ground, or its a nippy fifty degrees in the air. Its sweetness suggests otherwise, and its a malleable fragrance- changing with temperatures. It can be spicy to sugary, fruity, and a sweet combo of all three, its just outstanding but rare indeed.

Maples are not the kind of flower you expect to be fragrant as for the most part they aren’t! Most species do flower but few are actually fragrant, and the ones that are are only fragrant under certain conditions. It has to do with bloom period and temperatures- the blooms have to be fully open, producing nectar, and attracting insects. The temperatures ideally have to be warm to exhibit fragrance, although it is not necessary. Sugar Maples ironically can bloom when snow is still on the ground, and have a bit spicier fragrance. When the temps are warm enough, sugar maple and red maple will have a sweet cherry or almond flower scent that only carries on the wind; no amount of nasal provocation will be able to bring it out of flowers on hand. It is the meaning of ethereal! Its bloom period is about a week, but it may only be scented a day or two out of these, so it is the rarest kind of scent indeed.

A few other maples are fragrant as well, including Amur Maple (Acer grinnala), which flowers later in the spring and has sweeter fragrance still. Its certainly a rare treat indeed for a genus planted for its horticultural, and aesthetic values rather than olfactory pleasure. Perhaps it has to do with the fragrant sap also being used to make a sugar replacement known as maple syrup, which in its own right is pleasantly fragrant featuring caramel and woods notes.

Image
Cornus mas. Wouter Hagens. Wikimedia commons.

There are a few other plants with quite fleeting fragrances this time of year. I’ve already referred to witch hazels being oft-scented on the wind, with the Chinese species being the main bloomers in early spring. Another lightly fragrant surprise is Cornelian Cherry (Cornus mas)- a type of European dogwood with the most delightful yellow blooms in early March. The fragrance is extremely light and only noticeable when by a hearty stand of the trees, but its reminiscent of the autumn witch hazels, with a slight spiciness and dustiness. The tree later goes on to develop edible fruits resembling cherries in size and color, but are more like cranberry in taste, and make excellent jams and spirits in Eastern Europe and the Caucuses.

The king of all hide-and-seek early fragrant plants is violets, but these deserve their own categories as there are just too many, and the fragrance is needful of its own post.

 

 


by Leave a comment

Winter Honeysuckle

Image
Lonicera fragrantissima. Kurt Stüber. Wikimedia commons.

In this city its often a race between Daffodils and winter honeysuckle, with the later usually the winner most years. This year its the loser surprisingly to Daffodils, but I’m happy enough to see both come. Winter Honeysuckle is another early bloomer encountered frequently in this part of the world, and serves its best purpose as a fragrant early blooming hedge in this state. Its not particularly attractive- but it is reliably hardy and fragrant. Its got the most sweet lemon scent, dead on of lemon with a bit of sugar. It is lemonade honey and it is being served to your nostrils! It is yet another Asian import, but unlike the others detailed earlier this month, this one is hardy to zone 5. Its certainly a harbinger of spring to my nose- one cannot escape the scent anywhere whence its bloom starts.

This is a shrub that likes to hide its flowers amidst its branches and leaves, thus it can be hard to pin-point where that sweet lemony scent is coming from on early spring days, but its a wonderful pleasure nonetheless. The bloom window is often 3 weeks in Lexington, KY, during late march and early April, but it will occasionally have a smattering of flowers through April. Its dependent largely on temperatures staying above freezing but below seventy to prolong bloom. After bloom it is proceeded by light green leaves with little ornamental value, but grows very dense, which is why it makes perfect hedges. This is a good wake up scent for early spring, telling the nostrils prepare ye the way of the smell!

This is a shorter post than what I normally do, but I’ve been tired lately between work and other things going on. This weekend I hope to write longer pieces about fragrant early wildflowers (not weeds) and unexpectedly fragrant plants like Maple.


by Leave a comment

Early weeds

Image
Lamium purpureum. Ted Wight. http://www.tedwight.com.

Those of you in the Eastern United States might be wondering why I’m showing a picture of this vile weed. Well to me, this plant is the harbinger of spring of weeds. I’ve picked more of these out of various gardens than there are Jasmines in all of Asia, but I hold a dear place in my heart for it nonetheless. It was one of the first plants I noticed as a child, and have many memories of their pungent, earthy scent. Purple deadnettle, and the similar henbit (Lamium amplexicaule) have the tenacity of turning an unplowed farm field purple during their small window of early spring bloom in March, and are a beautiful sight of the Kentucky countryside this time of year!

Lamiums are small mint relatives that are called deadnettles, but are not related to the stinging nettle. There are several species, originating in the Mediterranean region, and are often invasive weeds everywhere else. Little known is that the henbit and purple deadnettle are edible- reported to taste like spinach (I haven’t tried it to know.) The scent is very earthy and herb-like, almost like a slightly minty patchouli. To me it is THE early spring smell, although others will find it disagreeable.

There are a great many Brassicaceous plants that are lightly fragrant this time of year that bloom here as weeds as well- including the Garlic Mustard and Wild Mustards (Brassica sp.) and various cresses that dot the ground (Thelspi sp.) The Mustards are sweetly fragrant like fragrant Alyssum (Alyssum maritimum), but not as sweet. The cresses also contain a light pollen fragrance, much like baby’s breath. Other weeds of the Brassica tribe fragrant right now include Arabis alpina, native to rocky crags of the Atlantic areas in the Northern Hemisphere, with an almond-like scent. 

Image
Petasites fragrans. http://www.guernsey.net.

Many of the weeds and non-weeds with fragrant flowers this year tend to have either an almond-like scent or a heliotrope-like scent. This is hinted at by Wilder in The Fragrant Path, but I tend to notice more almond or alyssum than heliotrope. Alas, our readers from the UK will notice Petasites fragrans blooming its heart out in byways and crags around the isles. It has violet-shaped leaves, rather unimpressive pinkish flowers, but a striking heliotrope fragrance nonetheless.

Weeds are often a gardeners worst nightmare, but sometimes they can be the nose’s best friend. Over the season I’ll certainly detail some weeds as they come into bloom. Next will be violets here, followed by the various honeysuckles and clovers of May, day lilies of June, ragweeds of August, and lastly goldenrods and Chrysanthemums in Autumn. Today I saw two more plants in bloom to cover, and the next couple of days will surely shirk more plants to bloom as we’re getting a winter reprieve, thus time is truly of the essence these fragile March days!


by Leave a comment

Other early blooming bulbs

Image
Muscari armeniacum. Opioła Jerzy. Wikimedia commons.

I’m starting to think spring is NEVER going to get here. There is no consistency to Kentucky weather this time of year as it is, but the fact that they’re calling for yet another cold arctic blast next week with snow is pretty freaking ridiculous. I mean, not that they don’t happen around here this time of year, but this is about the 20th of these we’ve had this year. I’m over it!!! Its kind of sad when Kentucky is going to be colder than Moscow during any period of the year, particularly in spring.

Anyways, spring in my yard is almost always rung in by these pretty little bloomers above. Thus spring hasn’t hit my yard yet since they are not up, but I’m going to talk about them anyways! They are a Hyacinth relative, not just in name, but in clade; and are easily confused with their relatives Leopoldia and Pseudomuscari (also fragrant early bloomers.)  Many of the plants in the genus turn out to be weeds in my neck of the woods, but alas, they are a fragile, fragrant early beauty. They are also called Musk Hyacinths for their scent, which at least for M. armeniacum is not that musky to my nose (by the way, the name Muscari is Greek for Musk). I wouldn’t personally know if I’ve smelled any of the other species in the group, since they are so similar looking, but the fragrance of Grape Hyacinth is neither grape nor Hyacinth. Its delightfully sweet with a tinge of musk, very similar to their cousins the Bluebells, but with a richer, muskier perfume. Hmmm… maybe we should just add this one to the list of plants needing to be sampled by oneself to really get the picture? Certain species are reported to have different scents, ranging from honey-like to banana.

Related to Grape Hyacinth is Puschkinia, another Scilla (Hyacinthoid) with a fragrance that is sweet and spicy. They are a rare find in American gardens and I personally have yet to sample one. They look strikingly like Hyacinths, except are a light blue or striped white and blue, and have a small cup in the middle around the reproductive parts like Narcissus. Sadly, its not named after the Russian poet Pushkin, but the Russian botanist Pushkin.

Image
Leucojum vernum. IKAI. Wikimedia commons.

Similar to snowdrops are spring snowflake, Leucojum. They are lily relatives, and like snowdrops, bloom early in the spring almost unexpectedly. They come a week or two later, and have a more marked scent that is reminiscent of the large Daffodils one sees in early April. Its not quite sweet, but musky and earthy, almost like air-dried linen with a with a slight tang to it. This is one plant you have to really bury your nose in to smell it though. I saw them at Hillwood Gardens in DC blooming in February (covered in snow no less) and assume some are out there blooming here as well. They don’t tend to last long here since spring is fairly non-existant most years and is squished between winter and summer. Perhaps they might last a bit this year with the amazing slow start to spring we’re having.

It is reported that Persian Irises bloom this early where the climate supports it. Around here, Iris reticulata is the only early-blooming Iris that can withstand our cold, wet winters. Wilder details it in The Fragrant Path as ‘possessing a perfume much like that of violets.’ Sounds like many Irises to me, although the later-blooming bearded ones are a mix of violet and privet, or some other cloying fragrance to be sampled lightly. Perhaps the early bloom stifles some of the over-the-top sweetness.

Image
Iris reticulata. John Lonsdale. http://www.pacificbulbsociety.org.

Lastly, Winter Hellebores are another early bloomer that, although not a bulb, are as reliably blooming as the bulbs above. I’ve already seen a few of the hybrids poking their heads out, and they are rather nice in a garden as another spring initiate. They tend to be favored in woodlands and well-maintained historical gardens in this region. The hybrids have a scent similar to Snowflakes and Crocus, but lighter than either. The species Helleborus odorus is the olfactory winner of the clan, but is rarely planted in gardens, and eschewed for its colorful brothers H. x hybridus instead. H. orientalis is known as the Lenten Rose, not only for its bloom period, often being during the Lenten season, but its faint purple and mauve colors, fitting the ecclesiastical nature of the season of repentance as well. Why purple is the color of repentance is something beyond my personal knowledge.

Image
Various Hellebore hybrids. Simon Garbutt. Wikimedia commons.

Well this concludes the bulbs for now- I shall likely revisit them whence April arrives, and the season for flowers has finally dawned. Until then, I will do some local fragrant weeds and wildflowers. I hope wherever you are reading this from, its more springy than here!

 

 


by 3 Comments

St. Patrick’s Day

Image
http://ants-and-grasshoppers.blogspot.com.

Image
http://www.zastavki.com.

I’m taking time off my usual post today to talk about the greenest day of the year, also my saint’s day- St. Patrick’s Day. If you aren’t familiar with the history- long story short he converted Ireland to Christianity from Paganism.  Its definitely a day where if you aren’t Irish, you’re really pretending poorly that you are and getting massively intoxicated without cause or reason. But on a light note- let’s talk about Ireland and its beauty. Of all the places in the world I have been, Ireland is still the most beautiful in my mind. I’m not saying this because its my ancestry, but because its the truth, it really is THAT green! I went in May of 2006 with my family and left a piece of my heart there among the crags of the Barren, the stones of Blarney, and the heathers in Kerry. Ireland is reminiscent of my home in Kentucky, so its really not a surprise that leaving Ireland felt like leaving home. The climate, scenery, and people are just as wonderful, if not more so than in Kentucky.

Ireland is not just beautiful, it is quite uniquely fragrant. Its not just the grass, fresh air, or old churches giving the smell either. Its in the rain, the wind, the very earth of Ireland. The Irish spirit is everywhere, and it effects all the senses, even the nose! But all the former do conglomerate to give Ireland a particularly fresh scent. When I visited in Late May, the lilacs were still blooming in Dublin, and the honeysuckles were blooming in Galway. Spring lasts particularly long in Ireland it seems, as the trees were just barely leafed out and the grass was still verdantly green…ok well the grass is always verdantly green there, but still. It was interesting to fly into Dublin, because it looks almost exactly like flying into Bluegrass airport, with the fenced farms and blooming hedges in spring. In Ireland, its the Hawthorne tribe, but in Kentucky its usually bush honeysuckle (noxious weed) and black locust. There is certainly an Irish feeling to my home state- perhaps that is why my Irish ancestors settled there years ago.

In May it seems everything hits your nose in Ireland, as everything is in bloom. Gorses (Ulex sp.) are perfuming the air with their coconut-like fragrance, as are the Hawthorns and blackthorns (Crataegus sp.) with their bittersweet, privet-like fragrance, and the various heathers (Calluna sp. and Erica sp.) with a light resinous sweetness that makes for good honey. Most fragrant were the grasses at the President’s estate in the large Phoenix park outside Dublin. I’m not sure what genus it could nearly be, other than its the same familiar sweetness that hay exudes and that I often smell in large parks and farms in my own home of Kentucky. Perhaps it is a weed that is so fragrant of hay there- like something in the clover tribe. I really cannot be sure, but it was quite comforting.

Regardless, there were multitudes of parks and gardens in Ireland with many fragrant plants- roses, valerian, various herbs, grasses, shrubs and trees. Every part of the island is differently fragranced, as are the cities. My nose gravitates toward the freshness of Kerry and its windswept coasts, but Galway was equally sweet with the honeysuckles and clematis blooming everywhere. I couldn’t even tell you which species they were- as I knew not plants nearly as well as I do now. Perhaps my favorite scent of Ireland was just the air itself. Whether imparted with the scent of turf smoke, (turf=peat, and is the same source of sphagnum moss) a fresh Irish rain shower, the scents of grasses, flowers, or the ocean; it never ceased to be wonderful to the nose. Ireland is certainly my heart’s second home, well perhaps save for the monastery I go to I guess.

You can check out some Irish wildflowers here: http://www.calflora.net/ireland/

Lastly, I present to you an old Irish Blessing:

May love and laughter light your days,
and warm your heart and home.
May good and faithful friends be yours,
wherever you may roam.
May peace and plenty bless your world
with joy that long endures.
May all life’s passing seasons
bring the best to you and yours!


by Leave a comment

Early bulbs

Image
Crocus chrysanthus ‘E.A. Bowles’. Ramin Nakisa. Wikimedia commons.

Every year its a race between the Italian Crocuses and a colony of Mr. Elewes’ Snowdrops to see which bulb is the first to ring in spring, as Wilder puts it in The Fragrant Path. The race seems to favor Snowdrops, not only in the book, but also in reality. However, it takes the Crocus blooms to really ring in fragrant bulb season, even if these Crocii are barely gone by the time the other bulbs are up. I’ve already noticed both in my home of Lexington Kentucky- having taken advantage of the last couple of days of 60 degree weather to begin their short bloom. Even now with the snow falling yet again, both are fearless of the early spring weather and will poke up through snow and hang in through ice, all for the early spring beginning we’ve been craving since February. Its a testament to nature,  as both, while unimpressive in the vast scheme of botanical species in the world, create the biggest source of joy for gardeners in the cooler climes of the world.

Image
Galanthus nivalis f. pleniflorus ‘Flore Pleno’. Redsimon. Wikimedia Commons.

Crocus is a large family, related to Lilies, that gives us saffron as well as bloomers spanning the seasons of the year, save for summer. Snowdrops are relatives of the Narcissus tribe, which blooms only a few weeks later often. Both are native to nearly the same regions- the Mediterranean and highlands of south east Europe and the Caucuses, and thrive in similar environments on both sides of the pond. In the United States, one is more likely to see Leucojum (snowflake) rather than Galanthus – but I’ll detail that in the next post. Crocus, however, is abundant across the eastern states, and grows all over older gardens in my home of Lexington, Kentucky. Often, a little stand of Crocus chrysanthus ‘E.A. Bowles’ outside the greenhouses at the University of Kentucky is the first bulb to bloom each year, poking up through snow as early as February. 

The scents of both are really delicate and reminiscent of the earliest spring days-  they literally smell like the warm spring wind. Well ok, at least the C. vernis species does, other Crocuses are a bit sweeter, with a light hyacinth touch. Snowdrops, like their cousins the Daffodils, have an earthy scent, but the Daffodils are quite a bit more sweet on the nose and free with their scent than Snowdrops. It would really take effort to perceive a scent in a field of either, but the nose is certainly delighted to partake of it when it comes. There are many scented cultivars of Crocus available- including C. chyrsanthus, C. flavus, and C. vernus cultivars in the states, and many more in Europe where they are native. The most fragrant are likely to be C. imperati, where available for the nose to sample its honey-like essence. The snowdrop species available in the states are limited to G. nivalis, though other unique, larger species occur in the native areas in Southern and Eastern Europe.