Queen of the Night - Heirlooms of the Garden

There’s been lots of time lately to remember when…



My memory today is at the time of summers past and backyard gardens were a weekend activity and “scrounged” plants plonked in a not so manicured garden were the thing.



Back in my day, plants were acquired not from a nursery but from a cutting taken on an afternoon stroll around a relative or friend’s garden. When visiting a plant was admired. A cutting was eagerly offered and wrapped in with moistened newspaper to transport home. Other plants were acquired at the local fete or street stall growing in rusty old tins with holes punched in the in the bottom for drainage.  My mother didn’t have much to work on -we had daggy clay without topsoil and my dad wasn’t the handiest at that sort of thing.

Not the most attractive flowers but a scent to die for

One such cutting survived. It was a piece from Mary Sullivan‘s garden. We always called it Beautiful at Night. It’s memory for me is that it was such an intoxicating plant. Its scent was heavenly – pungent, sweet, strong, sensual and it surprised us on breezy sultry summer nights. Sweetest memories of my youth with scent wafting into the open lounge room window. Actually, walkers taking a post sunset stroll would stop and ask the plant’s name. “It’s called Beautiful at Night” my mum replied.



When I moved to my current home, I wanted to recapture those memories for my children. I tried to find a plant of  that name and brief description of its behaviour. But no one knew it. Mary and my mum who have both passed away hadn’t bothered to call it by its real name. I asked my girlfriend (Mary‘s daughter Mary Ann) if she remembered the plant that our mums called Beautiful at Night.



Eventually I acquired the Night Blooming Jasmine -Cestrum Nocturnum also known as the Lady of the Night or Queen of the Night. This is an ornamental permanently evergreen shrub with tubular greenish white to cream flowers. It’s located in the rear of our garden to capture its romantic summer fragrance through our open veranda windows on the drift of the wind. You can smell it a couple of houses away.

 A scent that reminds us of a good memory

Recently when I mentioned to Mary Ann that I was writing this blog she admitted too that she had planted this special Jasmine.  Sure, we got ours from the nursery in an 8” black plastic pot. We didn’t have to rely on striking cuttings but I’m willing to share with anyone who wants one now.



Gardening is something many are revisiting during our “self-isolation”. I inherited a greener thumb in my DNA than my mum. My garden has memories of plants from relatives and friends as cutting and or gifts. My mother-in-law was a collector of azaleas, spring bulbs and Hoyas. I have many “free” samples. I still have some of the devil’s ivy that became my office plant that she gave me when I first started work.  



Others have given me bromeliads and gifts of plants when babies were born or when relatives died. Some parts of my neglected garden are reminding me of when mum went through her “succulent” phase. Pieces of succulent and Cactus were easy to “Nick” and easier to strike. I have plenty of bits from her fishpond garden and even some of her Lily pads.



There should be a spot-on Family Tree Maker or Ancestry to record our relatives love of their particular plants or the veggie gardens that were so loving lovingly tended.  So now I’ve memories of mum’s garden …… dotted with passed-along- plants taken from cuttings from older relatives. Heirloom plants passed along that would’ve been found in grannie’s backyard or at auntie‘s house.



Such dependable proven plants growing in their gardens 50, 60 or more years ago. Perhaps memories of their own home in England, Scotland or Ireland.

Night Blooming Jasmine -Cestrum Nocturnum also known as the Lady of the Night or Queen of the Night.

I remember our neighbourhood full of hydrangeas, fuchsias, roses, azaleas, pansies, trumpet lilies and daffodils.  



My “Queen of the Night” Jasmine brings back great memories but so too does the memory of our backyard plants.  Sometimes we would scrape up flowers and raid the neighbour’s gardens when it was our turn to decorate the church altar or take a bunch of flowers to someone.

 Scents can trigger a million memories

By the way, occasionally I’ve struck a few nightmares- Ivy, Fishbone ferns and Wandering Dew to name a few.



I’m in my 60s now and passing on plants to my daughter and her children- that’s five generations.  Certainly, it’s passing down the family memories and a connection to our European background.   Perhaps this is something we should consider recording in our family tree files. Perhaps there will be Corona inspired plantings. I’m off to get some cuttings of geranium.

What Heirloom plants do you remember?