Snowdrops must share their stage with other spring bulbs, prematurely awoken, writes Jane Powers.
This year, we're seeing the results of last year's upside-down weather. The garden's biological clock is all out of whack. Late spring shrubs have been flowering since autumn, while daffodils appeared in some Irish gardens last November. And this year, February's fair maids - a fancy name for snowdrops - were already jostling out of the soil in January. I don't mind my fair maids appearing a little early, but I do object to the yellow asphodel (Asphodeline lutea), which normally unfurls its acidic starry blooms in May, making an appearance months before I'm ready for it.
Such unsporting, fair-weather precociousness steals the thunder of the more brave-hearted early bulbs that have been uncomplainingly defying the bleak late-winter conditions for centuries (before all this climate change business started).
Snowdrops, those doughtiest of early bulbs, shouldn't have to clamour for attention among a motley crowd of opportunistic plants that have taken advantage of the past year's unseasonable weather. No, they should sound the first hopeful notes of spring in the icy quiet of a winter-barren garden. Which is why, as soon as the first eye-slit of white peeks from their green buds, I'm on my hands and knees clearing away all that surrounds them, so that they can rise in isolated splendour from the soil.
When the ground is cleared around the clumps, I add a dark mulch of cocoa shells (leaf mould would do nicely also) to act as a pleasing contrast to their white bells. Cocoa shells, I should warn you, contain a substance called theobromine, which can be poisonous to dogs. Over the years, none of our several canines has had any interest in eating our mulch, but it's possible that puppies, who sample everything and anything, may find its chocolate-scented fragments attractive.
Organic mulches such as cocoa shells and leaf mould keep the soil pleasantly moist (imitating the deciduous woodland conditions that these bulbs enjoy). Within a few months the material is broken down by various microorganisms and pulled under the surface by earthworms, where it feeds the soil and improves its structure.
Snowdrops, or Galanthus, to give them their proper botanical handle, are natives of parts of Europe and northern Asia. They are not indigenous to Ireland or Britain, but on the latter island the common snowdrop (G. nivalis) has naturalised in some areas - notably around old churches and monastic settlements. The one-time vernacular names - February fair maids, Candlemas bells, Mary's tapers and white ladies - all pay tribute to the feast of the Purification of the Virgin Mary, or Candlemas day, February 2nd.
One tradition was to pick great masses of the pearly-white blooms to decorate chapels and churches, but according to another convention, bringing them indoors as cut flowers was bad luck, and would cause a death in the house. However, apparently, it is acceptable to grow them indoors in pots or bowls, so - if you are the superstitious kind - you can dig up a clump just as they are coming into flower and enjoy them in the warmth of your home. When they have finished flowering, they may be replanted outside.
There are 18 species of Galanthus, and innumerable cultivars and forms (including more than 100 that are listed in the current edition of the Plant Finder). To the non-specialist, if you've seen one snowdrop you've seen 'em all, but to the galanthophile the differences are as clear as those between chalk and cheese. For a start, there are variations in the leaves, which may be thin, fat, pleated, shiny, matt, and in diverse shades of green.
The most delightful differences, however, are in the flowers, and in the arrangements of their markings. There is no other plant genus that has its little green blips and smidgeons examined with such enthusiasm by so many earnest people. Most of the pigmentation occurs on the three inner petals (or inner perianth segments, to give them their correct name), although occasionally the outer petals may also be tipped or brushed with green. There are even a few yellow-marked snowdrops, which are much desired by collectors.
Getting your hands on snowdrops is not all that easy, as they don't establish well from dried bulbs. Traditionally they are planted "in the green" - after the flowers have finished, but before the leaves have died back.
All my own snowdrops (so few varieties that they could hardly be called a "collection") have been given to me by friends. In the same spirit, when mine bulk up, I pass on a few bulbs to other gardeners.
It's the best way of keeping them in existence. Clumps of snowdrops should be divided every few years as they become shy of flowering when overcrowded. Replant in soil with a bit of garden compost or leaf mould, and - if the ground is very heavy - some grit. Specialist bulb suppliers (such as Avon Bulbs in the UK: www.avonbulbs.co.uk) sell snowdrops in the green, and occasionally garden centres or plant sales have a few pots for purchase.
To my mind, almost all snowdrops are desirable: their porcelain purity is unmatched by any other flower, and the individual blooms can last for up to a month, making them wonderful value at the quiet start of the year. The Turkish snowdrop, G. elwesii, is beefier than some, and does well in drier gardens.
There are scores of others, and not enough room to mention them. Two of my snowdroppist friends say that 'S Arnott' is the loveliest - and I'm not qualified to argue. Among my tiny flock of Galanthus, it certainly is the most striking: tall, sturdy and with well-shaped flowers that are faintly honey-scented. It was named after the clergyman gardener Samuel Arnott of Dumfries, Scotland. With apologies to Mr Arnott, I never think of him when I look at his handsome and fragrant namesake, but of the generous gardener who gave it to me.
SNOWDROP GARDENS
Altamont Gardens, Ballon, Tullow, Co Carlow(059-9159444): Snowdrop Week, February 11th-17th, guided tours, 2pm daily. Gardens open: Monday to Thursday, 9am-4pm; Friday, 9am-3.30pm; Saturday and Sunday, 9am-4pm. Snowdrops and other spring plants for sale at plant centre. Admission: free; tour fee: €2.75.
Primrose Hill, Lucan, Co Dublin(01-6280373); www.dublingardens.com. Open every day in February, 2-5pm. Admission: €5.