Arya News - Osmanthus: Flowers turned into cake, wine
BEIJING/NANJING – For many locals in Nanjing, Jiangsu province, a date with the King Osmanthus is a cherished autumn ritual.
Liu Guoyuan, 65, first visited the tree at the Zhongshan Mountain National Park more than 30 years ago, and he has come back almost every year. Most of the time he comes with his wife.
“This area has such a pleasant environment and fresh air. Besides, the osmanthus blooms once a year — almost like a pact with autumn. If I miss it, I feel like autumn is incomplete,” he said.
The “King Osmanthus of Jinling” — Jinling was the name of Nanjing in ancient times — stands in a vast grassland north of the Linggu Temple. Spreading 12 to 14 meters across, the tree, which is more than 120 years old, has a wide canopy resembling a giant umbrella.
When it is in blossom, dense flower clusters release a rich, intense fragrance. At peak bloom, the daily number of visitors surges, drawing local residents, photography enthusiasts and study-tour groups who come especially to admire the famous tree, according to Wang Chen, a senior landscape engineer at the attraction.
Liu remembered that once, while resting under the King Osmanthus, gusts of wind showered the ground with osmanthus blooms and his child squatted down to pick up the petals.
Chen Zhiyue, 24, traveled to Nanjing from Xi’an, Shaanxi province, especially to see the tree.
“It is quite an awe-inspiring feeling standing beneath the tree,” she said. “Its canopy is enormous, and countless tiny blossoms cluster thickly along every branch.
Chen said that her work schedule is usually tight and stressful, and standing under the century-old tree lets her feel as if time has slowed to a gentle pace.
“What touches me most about Nanjing’s osmanthus is not how striking the blooms look, but how they are woven into everyday life,” she said.
Liu, the visitor, recalled that in the old days along the Qinhuai River, when autumn arrived, many people took painted pleasure boats for night cruises to breathe in the osmanthus fragrance. Street vendors sold osmanthus flower ornaments, which young girls wore in their hair. Some people would pick osmanthus blooms themselves to make osmanthus honey, taro dessert, cake and wine, a tradition passed down to modern days.
Chen made an osmanthus sachet with the help of an instructor and bought osmanthus taro dessert at the Confucius Temple. “This is a flavor you can taste and a scent you can carry away,” she added.
For Nanjing residents, osmanthus is more than just an ornamental tree. It is a marker of the changing seasons. Autumn arrives in Nanjing not with red maple leaves, but with the first sweet whiff of osmanthus fragrance.
More than 1 million osmanthus trees grow across Nanjing — lining roads and filling residential compounds and parks.
According to Wang, the senior landscape engineer, the Linggu scenic area has grown osmanthus since 1261 and now has 18,000 trees of more than 20 varieties. There is also a naturally formed osmanthus corridor stretching about 300 meters.
Elsewhere, the Yuhuatai scenic spot is home to another century-old osmanthus tree. The Xuanwu Lake boasts more than 2,000 osmanthus trees, and at the Mochou Lake, osmanthus trees dot the grounds beside pavilions and waterside terraces. In addition, the Zhanyuan Garden is home to two century-old golden osmanthus trees.
Sun Qin, another senior landscape engineer at the Zhongshan Mountain National Park, said: “Osmanthus trees grow in ancient temples, imperial mausoleums and classical gardens, bearing the weight of history. They also thrive in residential compounds and along quiet city streets, woven into the daily lives of ordinary people.”