I rarely purchase flowers for their fragrance. Lilac and viburnum are exceptions, as are herbs. In my garden, scent is the pleasantest of surprises, usually appearing for the first time as I pass a garden, a trace on a current of air. And then the delightful task of locating the source, and once discovered, its perfume is the flower’s raison d’etre.

The scented year starts in our garden in late winter with witch hazel. Its fragrance is what’s noticed first, the astringent spice announcing that a few of the clusters have unfurled their sulphur spurs, small bursts of florescent yellow and a fragrance as bracing as the February air. A couple of crocus are scented – a pearly blue, an ivory, a golden with mahogany stripes – rewarding our efforts to inspect the earth for new growth and the honeybees’ search for nectar. These earliest blooms are followed by the long season of narcissus, and while there are a few fragrant daffodils, the most heavenly perfumes emit from the simple, soft white petals circling red, orange or yellow coronas, such as the old-fashioned “Poet’s Daffodil”. White flowers are often the most fragrant, as they have neither vibrant colors nor directional markings to attract pollinators.

First of the other spring scents is the hyacinth’s, one of the most perfumed of all flowers. Hyacinths require an intimate setting, so try a visited space where their luscious colors can be partnered with the velvety faces of primroses and pansies. Conversely, Lily-of-the-Valley should be planted in masses for they form excellent ground covers. Fill little bottles with little bouquets to appreciate this, my favorite scent. Clove dianthus is another carpeter, though on a lesser scale, with its silvery tufts of needled foliage. The frilly pink blossoms hold the spicy scent of cloves.

Spring brings several scented shrubs when our senses are most receptive. The first is mountain andromeda, frequently included in foundation plantings for the fragrant cascades of white or pink bells dripping from the glossy foliage. Viburnum ‘Carlesii’ also merits placement where it will be repeatedly passed, its blush buds opening to white flowers producing the most exquisite of perfumes. Another heavenly scented plant, daphne ‘Carol Mackie’, hosts clusters of pale pink fragrant flowers among whorls of variegated foliage, gray-green with yellow and cream margins. This compact shrub deserves a sheltered place in the flower garden.

Larger shrubs require more room. Along with several varieties of scented azaleas, mock orange is an old-fashioned favorite with a citrus aroma. Prized solely for its scent, it should not play a prominent role in the garden. Conversely, magnolia, the most fragrant of spring’s ornamental trees, graces the garden throughout the year, their scents – floral, lemony, vanilla, musky, or even licorice — as varied as their flower forms and colors. Lilacs, the most familiar of fragrances, never fail to evoke a sense of nostalgia. Saturating the air with their perfume, lilacs often flanked the privy.

Summer introduces itself with two more of the most familiar and beloved fragrances. Peonies: shrubby perennials with attractive foliage all season and summer blooms of various forms, from delicate singles to luscious layers, colors, from pure white to dark crimson, and perfume, from sweet to spicy. The “Queen of the June Bouquet”, peonies are spectacular cut flowers lasting more than a week to form the “face” of any arrangement and scent the house. Roses: the essence of romance with their sumptuous petals and intoxicating scents. The fragrant roses are not the ones we purchase from refrigerators for special occasions. They are the old roses and the recent cultivars, such as David Austin shrubs and climbers, which belong in every garden, mingling with perennials and lending grace and structure and color and scent. Classified as sweet, fruity, or resembling myrrh, musk or tea leaves, a single rose in a bud vase will perfume an entire room, and affirm their reputation as the “Queen of Flowers”.

Later in the summer, lavender, with its silver needles and purple spikes, is recognized mainly for its heavenly fragrance believed to have a calming, peaceful effect. While the daylilies filling our summer gardens and roadsides have faint scents, Oriental lilies are flamboyant in every sense of the word, with luscious colors, enormous blooms, and intense perfumes. Two annuals come into their own in summer. Sweet Peas produce ruffled petals of pale and dark pastels with the fragrance of grapes, a must in cottage gardens twining along fences and trellises. Nicotiana, which smells like jasmine, should be planted near a window where it can be appreciated at night when it is intensely fragrant. There are also some perfumed woody plants. Honeysuckle “Scentsation” is a spectacular vine with tubular, yellow flowers brimming with nectar and fragrant from a distance. Carolina allspice is a large shrub, and though its dark red flowers are inconspicuous, its strong, fruity fragrance is what we discern. Clethra blooms at the end of the summer, its spikes of flowers, from white, through pink, to deep red, hosting a fragrant mixture of honey and clove.

While autumn is reminiscent of the ripe aroma of apples and pumpkins and the mustiness of fallen leaves, “Sweet Autumn Clematis” is the most fragrant of these vines, smothered in a flurry of tiny white flowers that gardeners liken to a delightful mixture of spun sugar, citrus fruit, almonds and vanilla. Autumn is also the season of harvesting herbs, and I would be remiss if I failed to mention them in an article on garden scents. The herb garden is where most of them dwell. Studies in color, with every conceivable green, and texture, with needled and velvety foliage, mossy carpets and feathery stalks, so many scents are associated with the names of herbs: lavender, dill, basil, rosemary, mint, thyme, sweet marjoram, sage, garlic, chives. The fragrance of herbs will linger all the way till Christmas, when we bring the seasonal scents of evergreens into our homes.

Scent relaxes us, grounds us when we’re stressed, as we absorb what we can see, listen for what we can hear, touch what surrounds us, and, above all, breathe. It’s closest to memory; we recognize certain scents as soon as we step into their realm. Scent is shared, not reserved solely for those who live among or visit our gardens, but for those who simply pass by.

Dayna McDermott Arriola