Date: Fri 25-Jun-1999

Publication: Bee

Author: SARAH

Quick Words:

scents-freesias-Gardener

Full Text:

THE SUBURBAN GARDENER: The Scent Of Evening's Gardens

By Anthony C. Bleach

I loved this article by Ann Lovejoy from Audubon magazine. I've saved it since

September 1998. It is called "They Only Come Out at Night."

Every piece before this one on the subject seemed tedious. Here are excerpts:

Years ago, long, slow, summery evenings were usually enjoyed out of doors.

Houses without air conditioning held the day's heat, so family and friends

would gather on wide porches or steep stoops in search of the cooling breeze

that comes at sunset.

With no radio or television to mask them, quiet night noises were part of

daily life. Even today, on farms and in suburban gardens, and even in city

lots, one can hear the muffled chirps and sleepy rustlings that mark the

twilight transition from day to dark.

Birds settle down for the night with broken bits of lullaby. Swallows make a

last sweep of the fading sky, seeking flocks of midges and mosquitoes and

spilling sudden, liquid streams of song. Crepuscular feeders like rabbits and

hawk-moths come out to browse. Nocturnal creatures like bats and owls begin

their evening rambles.

In the well-stocked garden, the evening air brings little gusts of scent from

honeysuckle and rose, lily and tobacco, in summer and into early autumn. As

dusk draws in, the living perfume grows heavier and fuller.

Nightfall brings temperature shifts that alter certain odors dramatically. As

these changes occur, the pollinators of the scent-shifting flowers often

change as well. By day, the blossoms may attract hummingbirds, skipper moths,

mason bees, and butterflies. By night, they are visited by nocturnal moths and

mosquitoes.

Several of these fragrance changers are common garden plants found all over

the country. For instance, many species of honeysuckle exchange their light,

floral daytime scent for a fruity richness after dark; musky petunias develop

a flaunting jungle perfume each evening.

Trumpet lilies announce themselves boldly in the dark, pouring out sweet

smells that enchant from a distance but reveal murky undertones of decay at

closer range. (Flowers whose fragrance is darkened with scents unpleasant to

humans are attractive to carrion feeders: bees, flies, moths and butterflies,

that supplement their nectar diet with rotting meat.

Some night fragrances, like those of chocolate cosmos ( Cosmos airosanguineus

) and sweet woodruff, must be sought out, for they do not travel far. Other

fragrances require distance to be discovered. Bury your nose in a Paul's

Himalayan Musk rose, and it smells quite nice. Stand back ten feet, and the

complexity and depth of the oxidized scent will astonish you.

The same is true of the incense rose, Rosa primula , whose perfume is like

sweet peas close at hand and like freesias from a distance. (It is the lacy

foliage that smells like incense by day.)

Aromatic Annuals

Some of the sweetest scents in the summer garden come from inexpensive

annuals. Mignonette and wild tobacco, sweet peas and sweet alyssum -- all have

pleasing odors in their own right, but they also combine deliciously to create

drifts of more intricate perfumes that tantalize the nose by day or night.

All will grow almost anywhere in the country and are likely to attract their

share of night pollinators. For the most part, annuals are easy to grow. Give

them decent soil, adequate water and a minimum of half a day of sun and they

will perform unstintingly all summer long.

The longest-blooming sorts -- such as violas and petunias -- will remain

active longer if given a timed-release fertilizer. Alternatively, you can

apply a water-soluble fertilizer every week.

Mignonette (Reseda odorata) is a French nickname meaning "little darling."

Undeniably frumpy, it has frizzy green or brown flowers that smell like the

breath of heaven. Light but penetrating, carrying but not cloying, its

fragrance pervades the air on warm, still days and lingers long into the

night. This plant is nothing much to look at, yet its essence is remarkable.

Sweet alyssum (Lobularia maritima) is one of those plants you buy only once,

for it seeds itself with artless abandon. Fortunately, the seedlings are easy

to move if they don't land in the right place.

However, sweet alyssum has a happy knack for placement, tucking itself into

the corner of the steps or beneath a sheltering perennial. Sweet alyssum

begins to bloom in early spring and continues until frost turns its tiny white

flowers black overnight. Where winters are mild, the little tussocks bloom

straight through the year, renewing themselves without assistance from the

gardener.

Pretty if not showy, with its netted stems and tiny foliage, sweet alyssum

makes a foamy edge along beds and pathways, offering a heavy scent of warm

honey that pleases bees and humans alike. The colored varieties are far less

fragrant than the species, which is as good a mixer in floral perfumes as it

is in garden beds.

Beautifully crisp and ruffled, annual sweet peas ( Lathytus odoratus ) can be

disappointing because, despite their masses of flowers, some of the prettiest

kinds lack much scent. That's because English sweet pea fanciers are dedicated

largely to form. They have elevated the humble cottage-garden plant to giddy

heights, but along the way they have diminished its evocative scent.

Fortunately, fragrance fans have ardently maintained perfumed sweet peas. As a

result, seeds of strongly scented varieties are again available. Antique

Fantasy blooms in watercolor tints of deep blue and purple, wine and clear

red, pink and cream, lavender and lilac. Cupid is a low-growing carpeter with

brightly tinted blossoms, and Jet Set Mixed bears hottoned flowers with plenty

of perfume.

(Anthony Bleach coordinates the horticulture/landscape degree program at

Naugatuck Valley Community-Technical College in Waterbury.)