Galanthus
Having admired Snowdrops from afar I had never had any involvement or experience with them on the nursery or in my own garden. To me they simply symbolised ‘life after Christmas’
The looming grey, dark days of late January early February would be lightened by the appearance of the first snowdrop.
Especially here at Woottens, we have an outstanding display underneath a coppice of hazel trees just as you drive into the nursery, after a bitterly cold cycle to work; it’s a pleasant sight to start the day.
But my knowledge of them was vague and they all seemed very similar, however last week I was designated the task of digging snowdrops for our customers here at Woottens, I hasten to add I was dubious to begin with.
However after 3hours of kneeling in freezing conditions with the wind burning my ears and receiving some serious ridicule from the Iris diggers on the nursery, my doubts were lifted and I was smitten. (The afternoon tea of the day helped)
After indulging myself in some research I realised just how ‘fashionable’ snowdrops are in the plant world. A true snowdrop enthusiast is known as a Galanthophile, documentation began of Galanthus in the 16th Century, Galanthus nivalis and plicatus were the main subject of discussion. I was surprised to discover they are not native to Britain but originate in Southern and Central Europe.
Although I have to admit within a few days I had become fussy in my choice of snowdrop. I cannot see the attraction this year with the yellow tipped snowdrops, to me the snowdrop has to be the crisp green against the white, the gold/yellow tint appears slightly ill, as though the flower is loosing life.
Having admired Snowdrops from afar I had never had any involvement or experience with them on the nursery or in my own garden. To me they simply symbolised ‘life after Christmas’
The looming grey, dark days of late January early February would be lightened by the appearance of the first snowdrop.
Especially here at Woottens, we have an outstanding display underneath a coppice of hazel trees just as you drive into the nursery, after a bitterly cold cycle to work; it’s a pleasant sight to start the day.
But my knowledge of them was vague and they all seemed very similar, however last week I was designated the task of digging snowdrops for our customers here at Woottens, I hasten to add I was dubious to begin with.
However after 3hours of kneeling in freezing conditions with the wind burning my ears and receiving some serious ridicule from the Iris diggers on the nursery, my doubts were lifted and I was smitten. (The afternoon tea of the day helped)
After indulging myself in some research I realised just how ‘fashionable’ snowdrops are in the plant world. A true snowdrop enthusiast is known as a Galanthophile, documentation began of Galanthus in the 16th Century, Galanthus nivalis and plicatus were the main subject of discussion. I was surprised to discover they are not native to Britain but originate in Southern and Central Europe.
Although I have to admit within a few days I had become fussy in my choice of snowdrop. I cannot see the attraction this year with the yellow tipped snowdrops, to me the snowdrop has to be the crisp green against the white, the gold/yellow tint appears slightly ill, as though the flower is loosing life.
Amongst the hundreds of cultivars circling Galanthus collectors there are some beastly looking doubles, flirtatious hybrids where the petals flick outwards like a 1950’s ladies dress; and still my favourite the delicate single snowdrop, glancing up at you through its petals like a nervous lopped ear rabbit.
Whatever your opinion of the Snowdrop, I do not know of a single person that does not smile at the sight of the first snowdrop of the year.
A future Galanthophile……………………………………………………………
