Skip to main contentSkip to navigationSkip to navigation
The yellow blooms of the mimosa against a blue sky.
‘The warmth-loving mimosa quite merrily survives through winter.’ Photograph: Getty Images/iStockphoto
‘The warmth-loving mimosa quite merrily survives through winter.’ Photograph: Getty Images/iStockphoto

A hardy mimosa tree brings a blast of sunshine to a chilly garden

This article is more than 3 months old

Banish the winter blues with these joyous acacias, which are also good enough to eat

I am still learning my way through the 72 micro-seasons that the Japanese use to navigate the year, but if I were to create a UK-centric version, it would have to feature a particularly beautiful mimosa tree exploding into bloom halfway up London’s Kennington Road. I admire it from the bus, I admire it from the pavement, and I look out for it from several hundred metres back – a botanical light at the end of the tunnel, heralding longer days and sunshine to come.

Mimosa, as the taxonomy fans out there will attest, is one of those erroneous common names for varieties of the acacia and over the past few years its popularity has exploded – like its fuzzy yellow pom-poms do in late January and early February.

In south-east England, where deep frosts are rare (but gardeners are frequently caught out by cold snaps such as this week’s), the warmth-loving mimosa quite merrily survives through winter. Seeing it burst out of a large tub or the middle of paving in a front garden is an inherently joyful sight – the very reason to sit on the top deck of the bus.

There are several hardy – or cold-tolerant – forms for those who fancy bringing some fizzy lemon goodness to their garden: the Acacia dealbata, with its tiny tennis balls of flowers, is a good bet. Acacias hail from Australia, and while they are drought-tolerant (making them good at coping with pot life), they don’t love lime in the soil. A. longifolia and A. retinodes are worth seeking out if you do need something that will tolerate lime. As with any newly planted tree, it will often feel underwhelming – a kind of large, gangly stick – but if planted somewhere warm and bright (a south-facing wall is perfect) will put on growth quickly. Prune it into shape after it has finished flowering.

For me, a mimosa lives on my “I’ll have a bigger garden one day” tree wishlist. But I also love their feathery foliage and bring their blooms inside at this time of year for instant sunshine in a vase. The bushy stems work better when allowed to sprawl, rather than squeezed into an upright vase; I usually deploy a kenzan or flower frog in the bottom of a bowl or low mantel vase, to give support to the woody stems. It looks fantastic with the early narcissi and paperwhites which appear in fragrant fistfuls at this time of year.

skip past newsletter promotion

When the flowers start to dry out and lose their fuzz, don’t throw them away: mimosa flowers are edible as well as heavily scented, so are a ready-made zingy topping for biscuits or, if you’re feeling fancy, truffles – Skye McAlpine has a recipe for some that involve limoncello and white chocolate. Cheerio, winter blues, hello winter yellows.

Most viewed

Most viewed