Chimonanthus praecox

In the dead of winter, when the garden has given up on color and scent alike, Chimonanthus praecox quietly does the impossible. On bare, leafless branches, often in January and February, the wintersweet opens small, waxy, cupped stars of translucent pale yellow, each flushed at the heart with maroon, and from them pours a fragrance so rich and far-carrying that a single sprig will perfume a room. The Chinese name, la mei, the wax plum, catches the look of the petals exactly.

A deciduous shrub of the Chinese mountains, wintersweet has been cherished in Chinese gardens for well over a thousand years, planted by doorways and courtyards for the midwinter perfume and gathered for the new-year house. The flowers earn their keep beyond the garden as well: in Chinese tradition the buds, known as la mei hua, are floated in tea, used to scent and flavor, and hold a long place in folk medicine, recorded in herbals as early as the fifteenth century for easing summer-heat, slaking thirst, and quieting a cough. The South has prized the shrub for generations for that same unreasonable winter fragrance.

In the garden, forgive wintersweet a somewhat gawky, upright habit and plant for the nose. Site the shrub where a winter path, a door, or a gate brings people within reach of the scent on a mild afternoon, and where summer's plain green frame can recede behind showier neighbors. Cut branches in tight bud and bring them indoors, where they open in the warmth and fill a house with perfume. Plant toward the back of a border, give room, and let later, bolder plants carry the warm months while the wintersweet waits for the cold.