A sweet smelling garden

It could be considered a blow to the human ego that the incredibly delightful, nose-tingling and transporting fragrances of the garden appeal to us only by happy coincidence.

The complex chemical make-up of the essential oils developed in the petals of flowers is entirely focused on attracting their favourite pollinators. Waiting until their blooms reach perfect maturity, plants will hold back their most fragrant performance for ideal fertilisation conditions. The resulting fragrance released into the air has two distinct purposes.

The first is to specifically attract their ideal pollinator, the second is to remind their visitor of the great feed it has enjoyed, encouraging them to seek out the same variety elsewhere to complete the fertilisation cycle. For instance, sweet apple blossom pulls in bees who feast on the delicious nectar, get covered in pollen and drunkenly head off to the next tree bargaining for a repeat performance.
Other plants, like evening primrose, release their headiest scent as night falls to attract their preferred moths, or in some countries, bats!

Narcissus ‘Erlicheer’ with jasmine, rosemary, hellbores and snowflakes

Narcissus ‘Erlicheer’ with jasmine, rosemary, hellbores and snowflakes

Common jasmine and ‘Erlicheer’ narcissus

Common jasmine and ‘Erlicheer’ narcissus

Of course, not all plants release an attractive scent, or indeed any at all. Every year, I wonder why my shasta daisies are covered in fly poo, now realising their unappealing smell is the reason.
Like others in their ranks, such as sea holly and even some pear trees, these plants are on a slightly different smelly mission to draw in flies. Alternatively, plants like grasses that use airborne pollination or others that focus on birds doing the job, often have little-to-no fragrance.

Astonishingly, I discovered another reason for scentless plants. In the highly competitive world of rose breeding, mostly with the cut flower market in mind, the strong focus on visual impact and lasting form has seen the scent gene simply fall by the wayside. I think we can all agree a scentless rose feels like a travesty!

A sprig of daphne

A sprig of daphne

Once a flower is successfully pollinated, it stops releasing its scent and instead focuses energy on the fertilised embryo's transformation into a seed. It serves as a good reminder for gardeners wanting to cut and bring their favourites indoors, is to get in quick with the snips, as soon as a bloom looks mature and before the pollinators have rolled around in them.

Floral fragrance is so often tangled up in memories. I can fondly remember the intense scent of the daphne outside the kitchen door at my childhood home, the sweet muskiness of jasmine at the bach and the wonder of the heavenly-smelling winter sweet, which felt mismatched with its messy, twiggy-looking appearance.

Experienced gardeners can curate their garden beds for fragrance easily by visualising both the mature show of what plants will present, as well as the learned knowledge of the special ones that will tickle more senses than just the eyes.

For new gardeners looking to enhance their space, here are some great options to consider.

Make the most of a sunny fence or structure by employing varieties of climbers like honeysuckle, wisteria, clematis and jasmine. If no wall is available, rig up a teepee using sticks and plant around the base in sweet peas. While not all sweet peas are charged with fragrance, you simply can’t go wrong with the divine “High Scent”.

Not all sweet peas pack a fragrant punch

Not all sweet peas pack a fragrant punch

Fragrant phlox

Fragrant phlox

Interested in exploring what fragrance will really spin your wheels? Play around with planting annuals such as phlox, stock, sweet alyssum and nicotiana. Or dabble with tender perennials (that may behave like annuals in your climate), such as old-fashioned four o’clock flower and interesting chocolate cosmos. The latter’s name says it all.

Many bulbs pack a scented punch as well. Divine narcissi “Earlicheer” is unbeatable for my late-winter garden, as are kitchen table pots of hyacinths. Seek out scented mixed bags of jonquils to join the spring chorus of delicious freesias, tuberose, lilies, peonies and bearded irises. Do your nose a favour and establish a little patch of lily of the valley to really reward yourself.

Bearded irises have a beautiful soft scent

Bearded irises have a beautiful soft scent

The fragrance of a rose is unrivaled

The fragrance of a rose is unrivaled

For longevity and scale, consider attractive and sweet-smelling shrubs like lilac, viburnum, daphne, mock orange and gardenia to return to every year. Without a doubt, wildly fragrant, old-fashioned roses are almost unrivalled options.

Our New Zealand natives have some fragrant stars within their ranks too. I can still remember the astonishment that the divine smell wafting in the hot wind on our coastal Canterbury farm was the scent of the cabbage tree/tī kōuka in full bloom. The flowers, leaves and resin of the lemonwood/tarata tree has historically been used as a perfume by Māori.

In the North Island, Alseuosmia /toropapa is famed for its sweet-smelling blooms, while the fragrant tree daisy /heketara releases its scent from coastal Banks Peninsula to Southland.


This article was first featured in my Stuff ‘Homed’ gardening column for beginners , The Press, Dominion Post and other regional papers on August 5th 2021
All words and images are my own, taken in my home and garden in Christchurch, New Zealand unless otherwise captioned.