Plant fragrant bulbs now for heaven scents in spring: The Pecks (photos)

This column, at one point, was going to be about us finally finishing the two-year front porch project from hell.
After all, we were down to the painting, and how long could that possibly take?
The answer is a lot longer than we thought, which left us both wondering what we'd be writing about this week.
Then a bulb went off.
I think it was a hyacinth bulb, although it could have been a daffodil.
Daughter-in-law Dawn, who wrote about fragrant roses earlier this year, has been into fragrant bulbs for more than a decade and, because as everybody who isn't spending their every waking hour painting their porch knows, now is the time you want to plant them if you plan on enjoying them next spring. So what better time for her to share her passion and expertise on the subject?
Of course, it's also a good time to be fertilizing your lawn. Or pulling the weeds on the hillside, or going on an outing with the grandkids, none of which we'll be doing until we finish that porch.

Marcia:
Dawn is known in the family for her expertise and passion for fragrant posies, her green thumb and sharing the bounty.
I should thank the genius who came up with Mother's Day in the spring and my mom for giving birth to me in September, because they bookend the growing season.
Dawn brings me heavenly scented gift bouquets of bulbs in spring and roses and dahlias in fall, all from her thoughtfully curated garden.
I was never overly aware of scent, other than some of my old friends like daphne and hyacinth, until Dawn educated me on the nuances of sniffing fragrances (as for Dennis, I think he'd be more into fragrant bulbs if they bred a bacon-scented daffodil).
I'm not sure I can tell the difference between notes of myrrh and vanilla, but I sure do enjoy the sniffing and waking up to a house that smells like heaven.

Dawn:
As with roses, fragrance was my gateway to obsession with bulbs. Fifteen years ago, on my first visit to the Wooden Shoe Tulip Farm, I sniffed tulip "Apricot Beauty," which really does smell of apricots as the blooms open in the sun. Up to that point, the only fragrant spring bulb I knew was hyacinth. And while I knew hyacinth was strongly fragrant, to me it smelled like insecticide.
"Apricot Beauty" was a revelation. I was smitten and began collecting other fragrant spring bulbs. A fragrance fanatic doesn't think, "I'd like a fragrant white daffodil" and pick one. No. I pick 12. This is how I've trialed dozens and dozens of fragrant bulbs over the years. It's also how, last fall, I planted nearly 700 bulbs on my standard city lot.
You're probably thinking: that's a lot of bulbs. I thought so, too, especially in November on my hands and knees digging in the rain while wind whipped hair into my face. But then, sure as spring follows winter, I found myself in the perfectly color-coordinated display at Portland Nursery, deep in the throes of spring fever, feverishly wishing I'd planted more.
I've pored over catalog descriptions in search of fragrant spring bulbs. I bought "spicy" double daffodil "Acropolis" and "rose-scented" "Fragrant Rose," but detected neither rose nor spice. "Vanilla-scented" daffodils "Carlton" and "Gigantic Star" had fragrance, but I wasn't convinced it was vanilla. Romantic double daffodils "Bridal Crown" and "Sir Winston Churchill" -- both highly touted for strong fabulous fragrance -- are indeed strongly fragrant. They smell like hyacinth.

I did find a few fragrant spring bulbs I enjoyed. Large-cupped daffodil "Sound," split corona daffodil "Orangery," jonquilla daffodil "Bell Song" and especially single early tulip "Prinses Irene" all offered delightful sweet scent. I discovered small companion bulbs of grape hyacinth (muscari) and Spanish and English bluebells (hyacinthoides, hispanica and non-scripta) were pleasingly scented, especially when enjoyed up close in a vase. But none rekindled that initial spark of obsession touched off by the discovery of "Apricot Beauty."
I was particularly disappointed by double daffodil "Daphne," which promised a spicy sweet fragrance. Sadly, I detected neither sweetness nor spice.
You might think "Daphne" would mark the end of my fragrant bulb pursuit. But hope springs eternal for a fragrance fanatic. Fortunately so, or I wouldn't have found my one true love: jonquilla daffodil "Sweet Love."
Of all the fragrant bulbs I've grown, daffodil "Sweet Love" is tops for strong, wafting fragrance. I was initially charmed by the image of its small white-kissed, butter-colored cups, but really taken with the promise of ravishing fragrance.  
I'm not crazy about the reedy foliage -- the narrow leaves began to dry out before I saw a single bloom. It also grew taller than expected.
Then "Sweet Love" began to bloom. Strong and sweet and fruity and the scent carried on the breeze in the same way warm heavy fragrance wafts from my beloved daphne odora every February. I found myself going outside frequently to weed -- and I detest weeding -- to keep its fruity deliciousness close.
The aroma of those 50 bulbs -- whose blooms numbered over 150, because each bulb produced multiple flowers on multiple stems -- floated out over the sidewalk. I'd catch people walking their dogs suddenly stop and sniff the air, in search of the source of sweet scent. With so many blooms over so many weeks, I cut vases-full for family and friends who universally said they couldn't believe a daffodil was so fragrant.
There's a quote from long-time Oregonian garden columnist Dulcy Mahar that stayed with me. When told her cancer had returned, she'd asked her doctor: "Should I plant my spring bulbs?"
I'm not sure whether she did plant her bulbs that fall. I hope so. You hear a lot of advice about bulb planting: only plant those that are fresh and unblemished; dig deep and add a handful of bonemeal; make sure to plant tip up. But guess what happens if you don't? They still bloom. There's something comforting about the fact that bulbs are simply programmed to bloom, especially come spring, right when our gardens -- and our spirits -- could most use some brightening after a long, rainy winter.

Spring bulb tips
Follow your nose:  Everyone detects scent differently. For some, the scent of hyacinth is heaven, for others, a headache.
Read the tags: Some softly scented bulbs not marketed for fragrance can be nicely scented when brought into the warmth of your house in a vase.
Remember the little guy: Your fragrant hyacinths, daffodils and tulips may be the stars of your spring bulb garden, but don't forget softly fragrant grape hyacinth (muscari,) and bluebells (hyacinthoides, hispanica and non-scripta.)  
Try a terrific trio: Combine two, or ideally three, varieties together in a bulb planting.  Shorter daffodils -- like 6" tall gold "Tete a Tete" or 10" tall soft pink-cupped "Katie Heath" and "Bell Song" -- are a lovely way to bridge taller fragrant daffodils and tulips with tiny flowered companions like windflower (anemone blanda) or perennial veronica "Georgia blue."
Go big or go home: If you're planting a container -- or planning a display on an average size lot -- a minimum of 7-12 larger bulbs like tulips or daffodils per clump ensure an eye-catching display.  
Get more bang for your buck: Perennial bulbs that return year after year ensure a handsome return on an initial investment of time and money. Along with daffodils, bulbs like grape hyacinth, wind flower, Spanish and English bluebells, and ornamental onion (allium) naturalize well.
Plant perfect perennial partners: If you hope for a strong repeat performance from that fragrant daffodil, leave foliage to die back to feed the bulb for next year's show. Many daylilies (hemerocallis) pair perfectly with daffodils, their fresh green leaves emerging as daffodil leaves fade. Other perennials like heuchera, brunnera, dicentra, aconitum, corydalis, and several varieties of veronica can also help distract the eye until your daffodil leaves have turned brown.
Do just one thing: The spirit-lifting impact of a dozen golden trumpet daffodil "Rijnvefeld's Early Sensation" in full bloom nearly a month ahead of other daffodils cannot be overestimated. It's true they lack the lovely form and fragrance of later blooming bulb favorites, but on a dark rainy day in early February you won't care one bit.  

Fragrant bulb suggestions
Hyacinth
Daffodils: jonquilla "Sweet Love" & "Bell Song;" doubles "Acropolis," "Bridal Crown," "Cheerfulness," "Erlicheer," and "Sir Winston Churchill;" tazetta "Avalanche" and "Geranium;" large cup "Fragrant Rose" and "Sound;" golden large cup "Carlton" and "Gigantic Star."
Tulips: peachy "Apricot Beauty;" orange and purple "Prinses Irene;" soft pink double "Angelique;" orange-edged rose "Annie Schilder;" dark red "Couleur Cardinal;" lily-flowered "Ballerina;" and the rosier-colored sport of "Apricot Beauty," "Beauty Queen."
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Marcia Westcott Peck is a landscape designer (pecklandscape.tumblr.com) and Dennis Peck is not. He is director of publications at The Oregonian/OregonLive, which is a good thing for him, because if he actually had to use his hands for anything other than typing, it would not be pretty.

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