PERFUME DELIGHT: The fragrance of a blooming lemon magnolia is one of life's simple pleasures.
PERFUME DELIGHT: The fragrance of a blooming lemon magnolia is one of life's simple pleasures. Alison Paterson

Mmm fragrant delights

IF THERE'S anything more divinely fragrant than breathing in the scent that is the hot, dusky delight of a blooming lemon magnolia in a twilight garden, do write in and let me know.

Gorgeously curved and beautiful petals are set off by those bronze and green leaves.

But before you leap to your keyboard, mobile phone or engraved writing paper, there are some more fragrant confessions ahead.

Gardenias.

Need I say more?

Resembling that creamy-white whipped confection that is a meringue before you bake it, gardenias are magnificent.

I've planted quite a few below our home windows so when the breeze is in the right direction, that wonderful perfume fill the air, stirring the senses and giving your nose a treat.

Roses.

Yes of course.

Being an old-fashioned rose fancier I refuse to grow roses which do not have a fragrance.

Sorry Princess Caroline, as of autumn, you're out of here.

In fact I believe you should choose roses on scent first and colour last.

I'm devoted to David Austin's finest; in a past garden I discovered a lone Graham Thomas, so as soon as it bloomed, I bought some more and soon had a golden-yellow hedge so fragrant, people would cross the road to smell them.

Another lesser known is Old Lycidas with it's old tea-rose scent, magenta petals and more prickles than an echidna - bliss.

Meanwhile the perfectly named Double Delight with its petals scarlet and yellowy-white has a perfume to swoon for.