THOUGH I KNOW that it has problems, seldom reaches true adulthood, is considered a trash tree by most people, and is difficult to find in garden centers, the mimosa is still a favorite of mine. Just now it is in full blossom, its feathery bundles of flowers ranging from soft pink to almost red.

The flowers appear at the terminal ends of branches above masses of fernlike foliage, and they are undeniably handsome, and especially welcome along roadsides, where they provide as much color and interest in July as the redbud and dogwood do in April and May.

For some reason, mimosa is one of those trees that most gardeners never get close to, and by keeping their distance they miss much of the charm of the tree, for the flowers are scented, with a delicate perfume that is yours for the sniffing. You must get close enough to savor that scent, though, for it does not waft around on the breeze as many scents do. It seems to prefer staying closer to home, and though one can occasionally recognize its aroma from afar, a close encounter of nose and blossom will be pleasant enough to make you seek it out again and again this year, and in future years.

Mimosa roots easily, and, given the opportunity and space, can grow into a fine small tree 20 feet or more tall, with a spread equal to its height. One of its problems in the landscape is that it produces seedpods of some size, generally at least 6 inches long, and that it produces them in great quantities.

The pods often persist in hanging on the tree, drying up and shrinking as they age, which does little for the appearance of the tree. When they do drop, they can be a cleaning problem, but they are fertile enough to ensure the continued appearance of the tree in the wild, while in the garden they are easily controlled.