The Magic of Snowdrops

The mid winter months are undeniably a little less exciting for the gardener and resident felines than the warmer months of the year. However, there is always an excuse to get outside, even if like Mili it is simply a case of hiding in the grasses and avoiding the indoor chores. It might be chilly but wrap up warm and embrace the season.

Even when much of the soil is bare and the majority of the trees without leaf there are still some sunny spots of colour to be found. So I decided it would be nice to nominate a plant of the month.

My first thought would be to nominate a new Jasmine we have by the upper seating area, only planted last summer it already has produced some vibrant delicate little blooms. I was also tempted to choose an indoor plant, the daffodil "Erlicheer" on the windowsill does look rather stately, with its modest size flower heads atop of the upright stems. But I have just had to go back to an old favourite the snowdrops we have on the mossy bank at the front of the house.

 The snowdrops are unmissable every time somebody should use the front door. As surprising as it may seem I am particularly fond of them when it has passed sunset. They have an iridescent, glow in the dark quality, which means they stand out even under the gentle light of the stars and moon

 
The fallen snow or solid frozen ground seems no obstacle to this remarkable little plant, so tough yet so seemingly fragile. Close inspection gives a different perspective to the mass swathes (or modest mottled carpet in our case) and the brilliance of the white is just pure joy.

Lone flower, hemmed in with snows and white as they

But hardier far, once more I see thee bend

Thy forehead, as if fearful to offend,

Like an unbidden guest. Though day by day,

Storms, sallying from the mountain-tops, waylay

The rising sun, and on the plains descend;

Yet art thou welcome, welcome as a friend

Whose zeal outruns his promise! Blue-eyed May

Shall soon behold this border thickly set

With bright jonquils, their odours lavishing

On the soft west-wind and his frolic peers;

Nor will I then thy modest grace forget,

Chaste Snowdrop, venturous harbinger of Spring,

And pensive monitor of fleeting years!

To a Snowdrop, William Wordsworth