Jaime B's Blog

California has a pretty mild climate. It varies a bit from north to south over the 770 miles (1240 km) of the state's coastline. Even where I live in San Francisco, about 420 miles (670 km or so) north of Los Angeles, the weather is still what you might call "cool Mediterranean." Our "winter" temperatures here range from the upper 40s F (about 8.5°C) at night to the 50s F (10-16°C) in the daytime. Sunny days can be even warmer.

So it might not be surprising that some plants here bloom all year, or even that blooming trees start to flower in late January and early February. Right now, in the alley behind our garage, the flowering plums are a riot of blossoms, and a crabapple tree around the corner is starting to show blossoms over about a third of its branches. I don't know if the trees are tuned to the lengthening hours of light, to the temperature, or to the relative abundance of rain at this time of year; whatever it is that's causing it, they are blooming, and more trees will follow soon.

There is one tree in particular here, an import from Australia which has been popular for sidewalk planting, and that seems to bloom both at the start and at the end of the rainy season.

It is Pittosporum undulatum, a tree growing to 15m tall with wavy (undulating) leaf edges. It is sometimes also known as Sweet Pittosporum, Native Daphne, Australian Cheesewood or Mock Orange. It carries conspicuous orange woody fruits about 1 cm in diameter for several months after flowering in spring or early summer. The fruits ripen and then fall on the sidewalk, which is a nuisance because once they burst to reveal a multitude of tiny seeds, they are very sticky and resinous. Here are pictures of the blossoms and fruits. Click on them to enlarge them:

Its flowers are so fragrant that a friend of mine calls it "the aftershave tree." The aroma is reminiscent of orange blossoms with a kind of woody-musky undertone, and the scent is so prominent that even just a few trees on a street can be detected a block away. On my walks around the neighborhood where I live, I pass through these tree-lined streets while running errands or just gadding about and smell this delightful odor as I go. My husband, however, who suffers from many different kinds of allergies and sinus problems, hates the times of year when the "aftershave tree" blooms. I can safely pick the blossoms and bring them home, though, because once they are detached from the tree, their scent quickly diminishes and soon disappears altogether.

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Other scented trees and shrubs will make their blooms appear later in the year. For example, on many streets and in Union Square in the heart of downtown San Francisco, there are Brugmansia trees that bring forth white, yellow, or pink blossoms. The flowers are large and showy, usually abundant on the plant, and very fragrant, especially in warm weather. Here is a picture. Click on it to enlarge it:

There are many cultivars, including hybrids, available to gardeners and landscapers. Unfortunately, every part of Brugmansia versicolor and other species of this genus, also called Angel's Trumpet, is toxic. Brugmansia versicolor, for example, is exceptionally poisonous if ingested in large quantities. It contains various alkaloids that have toxic properties which affect the mind and body. Some of these alkaloids include atropine, scopolamine, and hyoscyamine. No matter if swallowed or inhaled, the flowers, leaves, and seeds of Brugmansia will most likely cause symptoms of hallucinations, dry mouth, muscle weakness, increased blood pressure, increased pulse, fever, dilated pupils, and paralysis. Still, it sure is pretty to smell and look at.

I remember reading a short story by Mohammed Mrabet, a Moroccan writer (and protégé of the American expatriate author Paul Bowles), in which he tells the story of a man who secretly sees his lover cheating on him with another. After they are done making love, the jealous lover returns home and acts as though nothing has happened; however, as his revenge, he makes and serves them tea from datura flowers (another toxic Brugmansia-related plant). He then packs up his things and departs, leaving the adulterous duo temporarily insensible and paralyzed.

I don't recommend doing this sort of thing, of course; especially not with oleander (Nerium oleander), another fragrant flowering shrub that the State of California plants liberally along its freeways (that's highways or motorways to you non-Californians). These plants are also highly toxic, and even small amounts can be fatal to very young children. Larger amounts can be deleterious to adults as well. The plant contains cardiac glycosides, similar to the digitalis-derived drugs digoxin and digitoxin, used in the treatment of congestive heart failure. Oleanders have a wonderful aroma, and broadcast it widely in warm weather. Here is a picture of one with pink blossoms. There are also white, yellow, and magenta varieties. You can click on the picture to enlarge it:

As with Brugmansia and datura, there are fictional accounts of oleander poisoning; a famous one is Anya Seton's novel Dragonwyck, in which oleander poisoning is an important part of the story; the novel was also made into a film. There is even a story claiming that some of Napoleon's soldiers in Spain died when they used oleander sticks to roast meat.

Well, I think I've wandered enough through the themes of early-blooming flowering trees and later-blooming fragrant-flowered toxic plants. If this has not been a particularly instructive read for you, I hope it has at least been fun. Happy sniffing (but no tasting, please)!