Is it just me or were our beloved snowdrops on fast forward this year?
It seemed like just yesterday when they valiantly pushed through the dewy soil in my back garden, nodding their delicate, milk-drop blooms before stepping back, silently, to make way for a joyous spring pageant of hellebores, daffodils, crocus and tulips.
Galanthophiles drove derteminedly across the country in order to worship at the high alters of hallowed, snowdrop sanctuaries, lauding their return. Lying prostrate on cold, wet and frosty lawns, scrutinising their oh-so subtle green, fingerprint markings with forensic precision and parleying peduncular proportions with great excitement. Galanthus nivalis, elwesii, atkinsii and plicatus, vying for the attention of exuberant snowdrop aficionados. The virtues of 'Godfrey Owen', ‘Mary Biddulph, 'Lady Beatrix Stanley' and 'S. Arnott' extolled over dog-eared notebooks and flasks of steaming, metallic-flavoured coffee.
The furtive exchange of well-thumbed tenners, and the satisfying 'beep' of mobile devices, registering the acquisition of galanthus gems. Once purchased, whisked away by their euphoric masters and mistresses to be cosseted and cherished until the arrival of a new snowdrop season.
Columns upon columns of reverential words heralding their return, and held within the pages of the magazines, thrust upon newsagents' dusty shelves... 'Hark, the Harbingers of Spring Have Returned', the headlines pronounce, saluting their snowy-white magnificence.
Instagram gridlocked, Facebook full to bursting and Threads tearing at the seams with dense drifts of #Snowdrop2024 posts, reels and stories. Swathes of snowdrops, day after day, to delight a world of gardeners, and perhaps even non-gardeners, as we anticipate the long-awaited arrival of spring.
And then, amidst the crescendo of adulation and appreciation for the diminutive snowdrop, they fade, quietly, stepping to one side, gone for another season, their fleeting appearance over. Enthusiastic gardeners, flushed with the excitement of emergent narcissus, hellebores, dwarf irises and the budding of forsythia and magnolia (well, maybe not forsythia) move on, galanthus seemingly forgotten til next winter. It's not intentional. We all do it.
And so, spring rolls in inexorably, heralded in blazes of yellow, blue, purple, pink, red, orange and green. But let's not forget, the innocent, beauty of pure white snowdrops which were the precursor to a scintillating season of spectacular colour.
Thank you snowdrops!
What a beautifully crafted piece of writing. I listened whilst having my breakfast and it was a lovely start to the day. Like many people I have different microclimates in my garden so the snowdrops season has been extended a little I have increased my stock of the delicate, pearly white gems this year and have a few ‘special’ snowdrops but mainly the much loved Galanthus nivalis and G Flore Pleno. These content me without breaking the bank or causing me sleepless nights in case the vagaries of life in the garden cause their demise. They are starting to slumber now but the green shoots of narcissi and the plump noses of tulips promise more joy to come.
Snowdrops, snowdrops, snowdrops!
Why this craze for these "little drops of milk" Before attending the Garden Intelligentia I only knew the "Snowdrops" - Galanthus Nivalis and I lived happily strolling in the undergrowth.
And then for several years like a fashion week parade they have appeared in all the media, adorned in white and green on every seam, expatriates from all their countries of origin.
Ambassadors from all walks of life watch for these wonders like the arrival of the Messiah Spring.
So I, like a fashion victim, became interested in it.🤦♂️
2 years ago I installed Nivalis in the garden, proud to display them like a trophy! And then discovering originalities, I decided to continue my quest and last year, added Galanthus double Floro Pleno💚🤍💚.
All this for an ungrateful February which only showed me common Nivalis in flower. ☹️
So I have spring sulking and I support the claims of single daffodils and multi-colored primroses relegated to the ranks of old garden wonders and old gardeners. I invite forsythia to join the movement to ask finicky galanthus to show a little modesty and stop arrogantly pulling all the cover towards them.
Well, I'm not anti-galanthus and I'm going to continue to give them the place that suits them, no more, no less... Unless I quickly develop acute galanthipolia reading all of you😅😅