
P was for pea last Sunday. Although the spelling has not changed since then, this is a different topic now, so is not actually a sequel. P just happens to also be for the floral fragrance of Hibbertia scandens, which, to some, resembles that of what tomcats do to designate their territory. Its several common names are no more appealing. It is known as golden guinea vine, climbing guinea flower and twining guinea flower. Rather than possibly offending others of Italian descent, I refer to it simply as snake vine. Contrary to its several other common names, it is not actually from the Guinea Region of Western Africa, but is instead from Eastern Australia and New Guinea. Incidentally, New Guinea is no more affiliated with Western Africa than it is with descendents of Italian Immigrants in America, or plump rodents who identify as pigs of the Andes Mountains on the West Coast of South America. I got a few cuttings of snake vine at the end of last September. One cutting is growing quite nicely. Another took time to bloom with this single flower that looks like Carl Junior did not quite beat the train. Its floral fragrance is almost disappointingly unobjectionable. I suspect that more are necessary to be perceptibly fragrant. From my limited experience with the species, I remember than only a profusion of bloom produced merely a slightly objectionable fragrance. Like so much of what I grow here, I have no idea of what to do with these new snake vines. Fortunately, they are more docile than the white perennial pea that I mentioned last Sunday, or the cup of gold vine that I mentioned earlier. Eventually, I should be able to accommodate some within at least one of the many refined landscapes at work. If so, I will not put enough of it within the same situation to generate annoyingly objectionable floral fragrance. Nor should any individual specimen be allowed to grow large enough to do so. I would be more tolerant of a slight bit of such fragrance within my home garden only because I happen to be fond of this species now that I have reacquainted with it.
Your description of the ‘fragrance’ made me laugh! I don’t know this plant, but am wondering if you grow all these things in your own garden or at work…. When you talk about the landscapes at work, is it a park? Or a botanical garden? Are there greenhouses there?
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This ‘work’ refers to the minor landscapes of a Christian Conference Center that I work at for at least two days weekly. Relative to the area of the Facility, the landscapes are not large, but we can get away with quite a bit within them. I can not do that at the farm, where we grow very specific horticultural commodities. I really do not do much gardening at home, although I should change that in the next few years.
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I am wondering about that common name. Of course it’s hard to know, but for a lovely single yellow flower, could it have been named after the guinea coin? It was gold. That was once popular money in the British colonies. Just a thought.
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That sounds better than the explanation that I got. I suspect that it is named for New Guinea because it is native there, as well as the east coast of Australia. That part makes sense. What does not make sense is that New Guinea was named as such merely because the Portuguese explorer who discovered it thought that the indigenous people resembled those of Guinea. (Ironically, ‘guinea’ became a derogatory racial slur for Americans of Portuguese descent after those of Italian descent were no longer offended by it.)
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