It has been said many times over that a picture paints a thousand words. However, as I contentedly find myself captivated by Lathyrus odoratus, that most delicious of summer's blooms, I ask myself how it could possibly be fair to share a mere picture with you. Or, for that matter, few words.
The humble sweet pea happens to be my favorite summer flower. It helps, of course, that summers in the San Francisco Bay Area rarely ever sizzle; sweet peas loathe excessive heat. On most days, the thermometer hovers around the agreeable lower- to middle-70's range. All of this, of course, makes me a fortunate girl as I am able to enjoy a bountiful flower haul throughout the entire summer season and into early autumn.
I adore sweet peas so much that I would like to propose a new holiday in their honor, National Sweet Pea Day. On this day, the ephemeral and beguiling beauty of Lathyrus odoratus will be praised and celebrated throughout the land. Gardeners will clip the flowers from their tangled vines to bring indoors by the basketful. And, for those fellow admirers who lack either a garden or a green thumb, a trip to a local florist or market to procure a bunch to bring home will be the order of the day.
If you derive as much pleasure from this old-fashioned garden staple as I do, you'll be satisfied in the knowledge that the pretty undulating blooms should be clipped with regularity. I can think of no other plant that replenishes its flowers as swiftly as the sweet pea. It is nothing short of horticultural magic! Happily, one's garden shears are pressed into service on an almost daily basis during summer's flush.
Once indoors, sweet peas should be arranged in vessels and vases and the posies placed about the house. The simple act of doing so provides me with the greatest of pleasure. It is a rite of summer I look forward to undertaking each and every year.
Won't you please join me in planting a packet or two of these older types of sweet peas in your garden over the coming year? I highly recommend an Old-Spice mix for heat resistance and, of course, for an abundant yield of colorful fragrant blooms. You will then be ready to celebrate that much longed-for future holiday, National Sweet Pea Day. Now, isn't that a day worthy of a celebration?
Photo: Chronica Domus
The humble sweet pea happens to be my favorite summer flower. It helps, of course, that summers in the San Francisco Bay Area rarely ever sizzle; sweet peas loathe excessive heat. On most days, the thermometer hovers around the agreeable lower- to middle-70's range. All of this, of course, makes me a fortunate girl as I am able to enjoy a bountiful flower haul throughout the entire summer season and into early autumn.
I adore sweet peas so much that I would like to propose a new holiday in their honor, National Sweet Pea Day. On this day, the ephemeral and beguiling beauty of Lathyrus odoratus will be praised and celebrated throughout the land. Gardeners will clip the flowers from their tangled vines to bring indoors by the basketful. And, for those fellow admirers who lack either a garden or a green thumb, a trip to a local florist or market to procure a bunch to bring home will be the order of the day.
If you derive as much pleasure from this old-fashioned garden staple as I do, you'll be satisfied in the knowledge that the pretty undulating blooms should be clipped with regularity. I can think of no other plant that replenishes its flowers as swiftly as the sweet pea. It is nothing short of horticultural magic! Happily, one's garden shears are pressed into service on an almost daily basis during summer's flush.
Lathyrus odoratus Cupani's Original (circa 1699) basking in the June sun
Photo: Chronica Domus
The sweet pea vines as photographed on a foggy day back in late June ...
Photo: Chronica Domus
... and yesterday, mid-August, still going strong
Photo: Chronica Domus
Daily cutting encourages a profusion of blooms
Photo: Chronica Domus
Once indoors, sweet peas should be arranged in vessels and vases and the posies placed about the house. The simple act of doing so provides me with the greatest of pleasure. It is a rite of summer I look forward to undertaking each and every year.
Ah heaven!... how I wish I could share the exquisite perfume wafting from these blooms with you
Photo: Chronica Domus
Every room, no matter its size or decoration, will surely be enhanced by the delicate beauty and scent put forth by these posies. At least, that is, if you select wisely and cultivate the old-fashioned heirloom varieties. Some may argue that the daintier pink and white blooms of Painted Lady (circa 1730) for example, or those of Lathyrus odoratus America, a rich raspberry-red and white striped example dating back to 1896 are not as showy or as large as modern hybrids. On that score, I am in agreement. However, these are among the many older sweet pea strains I favor and believe to be far superior not only in their form and beauty, but in their scrumptious scent, an attribute so often lacking in modern sweet peas. Why deny yourself one of nature's most luscious and exuberant scents I say!
As I meandered through the house this past Sunday afternoon, while snapping away with my camera to bring you the images you see below, it was as though I was being carried away upon a fruit and spice scented cloud. Each room was saturated with that oh-so exquisitely delicious fragrance unique to older sweet peas. I won't even pretend to do justice to the scent with mere words. You'll just have to believe me when I tell you the agreeable air in those rooms could rival that of any fancy perfumery.
A bedside posy to sweeten the air and delight the eye
Photo: Chronica Domus
A vase on the kitchen counter brimming with resplendent purple and violet sweet peas
Photo: Chronica Domus
Photo: Chronica Domus
A diminutive posy of pink and cream, and a lone striated Lathyrus odoratus America bloom, is placed upon a table in the corner of the drawing room ...
Photo: Chronica Domus
... and its twin posy is perched atop the secretary bookcase to enliven an
otherwise quiet corner
Photo: Chronica Domus
It is now midway through August and I've been clipping at the gangly sweet pea vines since late-June. The blooms, I am pleased to report, exhibit no sign of dwindling just yet. Over the coming weeks I anticipate the good fortune of filling my vases with many more splendid stalks of Cupani's Original, America, Painted Lady, and other heirloom strains I planted in the spring.
Late-afternoon summer light rakes across a sweet pea arrangement
Photo: Chronica Domus
Hello CD, What a wonderful touch of elegance and color you have sent us with these sweet peas. They look as good outdoors as in your elegant receptacles and settings. About the perfume, I'll make you a deal: You send us the photos, and keep the scent for yourself! (You recall that, like Mr. CD, I am on the anti-perfume brigade.)
ReplyDelete--Jim
Hello Jim,
DeleteOh, you have it completely wrong with regards to the fragrance of sweet peas. It is a divine aroma and nothing like narcissus (which, as you recall, Mr. CD abhors). No, sweet peas smell more akin to fresh fragrant fruits (grapefruit and peaches and a little spicy perhaps?). Really, they smell good enough to eat so please, please don't write them off until you've experienced the scent first hand, at least the heirloom varieties to be certain - no chance of even a smidgen of fragrance to be detected in those fancy-schmancy modern sweet peas.
Hello again CD, I stand corrected! I should not have brought up the scent without having smelled sweet peas recently, especially with so much old-fashioned color and charm in your flower photos themselves. You are right that not all flowers are the same. We used to have an apple tree outside our back door, whose blossoms had a very delicate perfume, while the plum tree next to it had a sweet fragrance that I always associated with early spring.
Delete--Jim
It's funny but I can't quite recall how my Santa Rosa plum tree's blossom smells (will make a point of sniffing in the spring).
DeleteI think you now have a new mission to seek out some older types of sweet pea and take in their divine scent. The perfume is strongest as soon as the blooms are cut but after 24 hours it dissipates so you might just be able to tolerate them.
So pretty - I have planted many this year. In fact, I planted the most ever as I have planted sweet peas along the railing of my terrace balcony which looks great. But this year has been so hot that it has been a bit of a failure. Just too hot. Hasn't it been hot there this year though for you too? Glad to read a post!!! you have been missed
ReplyDeleteHello Naomi,
DeleteThank you for the warm welcome back. I've missed you all!
Nope, no heat here in SF. In fact, that is pretty typical actually for summer. Some days it makes me want to run away to a hot beach destination then I remember my sweet peas and how I'd miss picking them during the months of July and August.
I see all the heat has ended up in the UK and mainland Europe this year. It's crazy. What is going on in this world? How can London be far hotter than California I ask you? I am sad for your sweet pea crop cut short but such high temperatures. Better luck next year!
Hello CD, yes, I too was delighted to see you pop up today! And you come bearing gifts! A tour of the manor was worth waiting for. You have been very lucky with your bounty of sweet peas and so wise in your selection. The dreary San Francisco summer must have its compensation.
ReplyDeleteHello Pipistrello, and thank you for the kind welcome back to Blogland.
DeleteYes, dreary is right. San Francisco can be quite chilly on some days during August with the wind and the fog. But, I ain't complainin' too much - I get to enjoy my sweet peas all summer long.
Such beautiful images! And I don't think there's a flower in the world whose scent I prefer to these. I love that you plant them every year.
ReplyDeleteHello Lisa, and thank you.
DeleteWe drink from the same (fragrant) well if you too derive as much pleasure from the divine scent of sweet peas as I. It is my favorite floral small no doubt about it! Just heavenly!
I LOVE sweet peas and plant them every year but mine are long gone by June. Ideally, they're planted in early fall in my area of coastal SoCal and bloom as early as January. This year, mine got off to a late start as the seedlings were nibbled by rabbits (never a problem until this year) but even with a relatively cool spring they were gone in April. The future National Sweet Pea Day may need regional observance dates!
ReplyDeleteHello Kris Peterson,
DeleteI never thought about a National Sweet Pea Day holiday having to be a regional observance but yes, you are correct. Obviously, I didn't think that one through, hah! Your NSPD would have to be way ahead of mine up here in NorCal.
Oh, sweet peas... I love them! Mine finished a long time ago. You must live in the close-to-the-city part of the Bay Area to stay so cool! I lived in Walnut Creek and Concord, and it was as hot as where I am now in the summer. 90s-low 100s.
ReplyDeleteHello Lisa, and welcome!
DeleteYou definitely know the Bay Area's micro-climates and you've correctly guessed that my garden is influenced by the cool San Francisco summer fog. Walnut Creek and Concord swelter during the summer. Too hot for me and too hot for sweet peas.
I love your sweet peas. The few times I've tried to grow them it hasn't worked out very well. How fun to have these sweet flowers all over your house!
ReplyDeleteHello Rebecca and thank you. So nice to hear you liked my little arrangements of heirloom sweet peas placed about the house.
DeletePlease consider giving sweet peas another shot. Try to plant the seeds in late winter or early spring (depending on your climate). If you soak them for a few days their tough shells will soften, which you'll then be able to nick with a knife before planting to encourage germination. That's really a little trick that works for me. Good luck!
I loved how you have them all through your house, but alas, I will not be planting more even though I love them. I am in southern middle Tennessee and they struggle to survive here. I do get some blooms during the cool spring, but right now, only an occasional bloom which I celebrate. I appreciate you sharing.
ReplyDeleteJeannie@GetMetoTheCountry
Hello Jeannie and welcome!
DeleteNothing pleases me more than filling little vases to place about the house during summer with sweet peas. However, as you've noted, they do not fare well in heat and I can only imagine how hot Tennessee summers are. Sweltering, no doubt! Ah well, at least you get to enjoy them in the cooler months and a head start on us western gardeners.
Hi CD,
ReplyDeleteI'm so happy to see your post. I love Sweet Peas and had some success with them this spring. Southern California has been sizzling and the still-blooming sweet peas had to be taken out after July 6, when the heat moved in and hasn't really let up much all of August.
xo,
Karen
Hello Karen,
DeleteI'm also happy to see your comment pop up too. I've been away from the blog too long.
Pleased to hear of your successes with sweet peas earlier in the year. Which type did you select to grow in your garden? Old-Spice Mix seems to tolerate heat so if you haven't tried those yet get yourself a packet and thank me later.
I love your writing style...almost Victorian!! I have grown sweet peas in the past and loved being reminded of them. I may just sow a packet after reading yours. Neither Mr S or I can have them in the house, as the perfume gives us headaches/migraines...something that has got worse over the years. However I pick and give them away.
ReplyDeleteHello Stasher,
DeleteWhy, thank you! I am pleased to read that you too have had the pleasure of cultivating sweet peas although I feel terribly for you and Mr. S in terms of your nasal affliction. One tip, cut and arrange sweet peas to your heart's content but do not bring them into the house for 24 hours. After that, the strong perfume has disipated enough that you may be able to tolerate them. Either way, your friends are the lucky ones to receive such lovely posies from your garden.
These lovely arrangements have inspired sweet pea envy. I think I will plant some next spring although it can/does get hot here around Boston. Your Wedgewood vases enhance that English garden mood and complement the flowers so well.
ReplyDeleteBest,
KL Gaylin
Hello KL Gaylin,
DeleteYes, please do plant your seeds next spring, after all danger of frost is over (I know how cold Boston can get in the winter, shiver!). And, when the time comes to pick the pretty blooms, do send me a picture so I too can admire them.
The jasper vases are not Wedgwood at all, would you believe, although I am certain they were influenced by the great ceramicist. Although unmarked, I believe them to have been manufactured by Dudson. I found the one on the bedside table in an antiques shop in Hudson, New York last summer when trolling the shops with my good friends Reggie Darling and Boy Fenwick.
I enjoyed your beautiful post and your arrangements are so beautiful and inviting to look at. You should take your idea of a National Sweet Pea Day and promote it! It would probably catch on!
ReplyDeleteHello Lee@AGtNG,
DeleteThank you for your lovely comment, and welcome!
I am glad you are in agreement with regards to a day of celebration for this wonderful flower. Now, who exactly is it that declares such holidays? Let's start a movement to make it happen!
I didn't knew sweet peas could add that grace and beauty inside as cut flowers and outside as plants .
ReplyDeletehave a great week.
Hello Arun Goyal,
DeleteSweet peas all summer long, that's my type of summer. Nothing nicer than nipping into the garden first thing in the morning and snipping a few stalks to bring indoors or to fill my vase in the office. Lovely!