Nerium oleander is among the oldest shrubs in cultivation, grown around the Mediterranean since antiquity and named from the Greek neros, watery, for the streamsides and washes where oleander grows wild. The dark green, leathery, lance-shaped leaves sit in tidy whorls of three along long, sparingly branched stems, lending the shrub a clean, upright presence in every season.
Alabama snow-wreath is one of the Southeast's rarest native shrubs and one of the easiest to grow, a combination that ought to put the plant in far more gardens than it occupies. In spring the arching, thicket-forming branches foam with feathery white flowers, and the trick of them is that there are no petals at all: the show is pure stamen, dozens of white filaments per bloom spraying out against five small greenish sepals, like little bottlebrushes of light along the stems.
Nyssa ogeche, the Ogeechee tupelo, is a medium-sized deciduous tree of the southeastern Coastal Plain, at home from southern South Carolina through the Ogeechee valley of Georgia into northern Florida and Alabama. The genus name honors Nyssa, a water nymph of Greek myth, and the tree lives up to the name, thriving along creeks, river swamps, and seasonally flooded bottoms where the soil stays acidic and wet.
The purple firespike answers a quiet complaint of the warm-climate gardener, that the tropical border runs to reds and hot corals and forgets the cooler end of the spectrum. Odontonema callistachyum carries erect spikes of tubular, lavender-to-amethyst flowers at the tip of nearly every branch, each spike lengthening to almost a foot as the buds open in succession from fall into spring. The genus name joins the Greek odous, a tooth, with nema, a thread, for the small toothed filaments within the bloom, while the epithet callistachyum means, simply and accurately, beautiful spike. The leaves are broad, glossy, and faintly fleshy, a lacquered dark green that holds the plant together as a handsome mound even between flushes.
Few plants light a shaded corner the way firespike does. Odontonema strictum raises erect spikes of slender, tubular, scarlet flowers to a foot long from late summer into winter, each spike a torch held above dark, glossy, quilted foliage. The genus name pairs the Greek odous, a tooth, with nema, a thread, for the toothed filaments inside the bloom, and the plant answers to a tangle of common names, firespike, cardinal's guard, and firestick among them, though firespike is the one that sticks.
Sundrops make a gentle joke of their family. Oenothera fruticosa ssp. glauca belongs to the evening primroses, a tribe famous for opening at dusk and closing by mid-morning, yet the sundrops break ranks and bloom by day, holding cups of clear, satiny yellow wide open through the sunlit hours of late spring and early summer. The genus name comes from the Greek oinos, wine, and thera, to hunt or seek, an old and disputed reference to a European relative whose roots were once thought to give a taste for wine; the epithet fruticosa means shrubby, for the firm, upright stems, and glauca notes the blue-green bloom on the foliage.
The olive is an evergreen Mediterranean tree, sometimes a very large shrub, with narrow leathery leaves gray-green above and silver beneath, and small fragrant white flowers carried in axillary racemes in late summer. Fruit ripened in dry climates is the source of commercial olives and olive oil. In the humid Southeast the olive has never been a dependable fruit producer, whatever the winter hardiness, and the honest advice is to grow one here for the silver evergreen structure and treat any crop as a bonus. There is now a commercial grove in south Georgia, so perhaps a suitable variety has been found, though the University of Georgia's own assessment of adaptability and productiveness in the state remains carefully undecided.
The olive is an evergreen Mediterranean tree or large shrub, the narrow leathery leaves gray-green above and silver below, the flowers small, white, and fragrant in axillary racemes in late summer. Where summers are dry, that fruit becomes table olives and oil. Where summers are wet, as here, the crop is unreliable and the tree earns a place for other reasons entirely: for the color of the foliage in low light, for the character an old trunk develops, and for the fact that an olive in a Carolina garden is still an unlikely and pleasing thing. A commercial grove has gone in down in south Georgia, which is encouraging, though the University of Georgia is still calling the question open.
The olive is an evergreen Mediterranean small tree or large shrub with grey-green leathery leaves and small, fragrant white flowers in axillary racemes in late summer. Fruit produced in dry climates is the source of commercial olives and olive oil. While the species is generally winter hardy in the warmer parts of the southeastern United States, the olive has not been a dependable fruit producer in our humid climate, and has never been readily available in the South. There is now a substantial commercial grove in south Georgia, so perhaps a suitable variety has been found; the question is more open than it was twenty years ago.
A true olive for the shade, Olea yunnanensis is the sort of plant that rewards the gardener who reads labels twice. The genus is the olive genus, kin to the ancient Mediterranean fruit tree and to the sweet olives and privets of the same family, yet this species hails from the mountains of Yunnan in southwestern China rather than the sun-baked hills of the Old World. The narrow, leathery, dark green leaves carry an unmistakable Osmanthus cast, glossy above and paler beneath, and build into a dense, rounded evergreen canopy that holds the year.
Osmanthus armatus, a rare gem from the evergreen forests of western China, brings both elegance and resilience to the garden. This large, multi-branched shrub is known for thick, lustrous, dark green leaves adorned with prominent marginal and terminal spines, reminiscent of holly.
Some plants are grown for the eye and some for the nose, and sweet osmanthus belongs wholly to the second camp. The very name tells the story: Osmanthus joins the Greek osme, a scent, with anthos, a flower, and fragrans doubles down, so the botanical name reads almost as fragrant fragrant-flower. The blooms themselves are tiny, waxy, and creamy white, tucked so far back among the leaves that a passerby often smells the plant long before finding the flowers, a warm apricot-and-honey perfume that carries across a whole garden on a mild autumn day.
For all the sweet osmanthus grown across the South, most carry the same tiny white flowers, so 'Conger Yellow' arrives as a quiet surprise: a clone bearing clusters of soft, butter-yellow blooms against notably large, glossy leaves. The flowers keep the family gift, that warm apricot-and-honey perfume that drifts on autumn air and, in mild climates, returns in scattered flushes through much of the year, strongest as evening cools.
'Fudingzhu' turns the usual tea olive up a notch. Where most sweet osmanthus scatter a modest few flowers among the leaves, this selection smothers itself in dense, bead-like clusters of small, creamy-white blooms, so freely and for so long that the name is said to mean pearls upon the Buddha's head, for the way the pale flowers crown the plant. The scent is the pure osmanthus perfume, a rich sweetness of ripe apricot and peach that carries on the evening air.
The orange sweet olive is the tea olive at full volume. Where the common form carries tiny white flowers, Osmanthus fragrans f. aurantiacus bears clusters of deep yellow to burnt orange, and the color comes with an even richer scent, a heady sweetness of ripe apricot and peach that fills a garden on a still autumn afternoon. The blooms open in one great, concentrated flush, brief at perhaps a week or two, but so heavy that the whole plant seems to smoke with fragrance while it lasts.
Grown for the leaf rather than the flower, 'Goshiki' is the most colorful of the holly osmanthus. The name means five colors in Japanese, and the spiny, holly-like evergreen leaves earn it: flecked and mottled with cream and yellow against dark green, and flushed at every new growth with startling pink and orange that slowly settles to gold and green. The species name heterophyllus, from the Greek for different-leaved, fits the whole clan, whose juvenile leaves bristle with holly teeth while older ones smooth to entire margins.
'Gulftide' is the tea olive to reach for when you want the fragrance of the genus and the toughness to carry it through a cold winter. A dense, upright evergreen with glossy, dark green, spiny holly-like leaves, this selection covers itself in tiny waxy white flowers in autumn, and the scent they throw is out of all proportion to the size of the bloom, sweet and carrying, one of the real pleasures of the fall garden.
Holly osmanthus is a large evergreen Asian shrub whose leaves do a convincing impression of holly, spined, glossy and hard, so convincing that people reach for the plant expecting berries and are surprised twice: first by the fragrance, and then by the fact that the leaves are set in opposite pairs, which no holly ever manages. 'Purpureus' adds one thing to that reliable frame. New growth breaks a deep purple-black, holds the color for weeks, and settles into dark green still tinged with purple, so the shrub flushes dark twice a year rather than green.
'Sasaba' is the holly osmanthus taken to a theatrical extreme, grown less for flower than for the sheer drama of the leaf. Each dark, glossy, evergreen leaf is cut and incised into narrow, spine-tipped lobes that jut out in every direction, so that the whole shrub reads as a slow green explosion. The Japanese name says it well: sasaba means bamboo leaf, for the narrow, divided foliage.
Osmanthus suavis is the mountain member of the sweet olive family, a shrub of quiet, upright grace carried down from high ground. Native to the cool slopes of the eastern Himalayas and the misted forests of southwest China, the plant has the unhurried resilience of alpine flora, and the narrow, pointed, finely toothed leaves, darkly lustrous and neatly held, give a formal, upright presence the year round.
