Sweetly-scented Viburnum tinus. Photograph: corrieb/Flickr/Some rights reserved
Laetitia Maklouf is a self-confessed former plant murderer who is now inspiring the next generation of urban gardeners with her new book, The Virgin Gardener. Here, Laetitia picks her favourite blooms for spring:
Daphne mezereum
This is a small, slow-growing shrub that bears deliciously scented fleshy dark pink flowers on bare stems that I look forward throughout the winter, followed by narrow blue-green leaves. The thickness of the petals, which don't let light through, gives the pink a moodiness unmatched by anything at this time of year, even the darkest of divine Cyclamen coum seem trifling by comparison.
Viburnum tinus
Oh how I love this plant. I grow it in little standard lollipops and it delights me throughout autumn and into early spring when those little honey-scented creamy white flowers are at their most welcome. It has glossy dark evergreen leaves and will weather the cruellest of conditions - even shade and salty air. I pick the flowers and have them inside for their sweet scent. It comes in pink too, if you are so inclined (V. tinus 'Eve Price')
Osmanthus delavayi
Another deliciously scented evergreen shrub with compact growth habit. I train this up a framework in a large pot and it blossoms in late spring with a profusion of tiny white flowers. The rest of the year it looks fabulously smart with its dark green toothed leaves. This plant is slow-growing, so perfect for lazy gardeners like me.
Magnolia stellata
A deeply beautiful small, slow-growing magnolia that ends up forming a sort of neat mushroomy bonsai-esque dome shape that tells me it is Japanese. It has lovely hairy grey winter buds that explode in early to mid-spring into these delicate papery daisy-like milky-white flowers. It stays relatively small, so you can grow it in a big pot if you need to. Oh, and the flowers are scented too.
Enkianthus campanulatus
This exquisite thing produces its flowers in May – hundreds of little yellow veined bells which stick around for three weeks or so. And then in autumn, the leaf colour is utterly magical and seems to cover the full spectrum. I admire this from afar, because it needs lovely, lime-free soil, heather that it is, but if I'm ever lucky enough to be able to grow lime-haters, it's top of my (very long) list.