Cold Climate Gardening » Snowdrops

Snowdrops, Winter Aconites, Crocus: Garden Bloggers Bloom Day March 2010

Kathy Purdy — Tue, 16 Mar 2010 01:23:46 +0000

Another March, another mud season in full swing. The snowdrops that had barely opened five days ago are now in full flower:

These snowdrops were just budding five days ago

Galanthus nivalis in the Secret Garden

The snowdrops that were buried under snow on March 7th are now in full bud, as you can see on the left. This is the path in the Secret Garden that I brag on every year about this time. These snowdrops all came from a single clump given to me, well, I don’t remember exactly when–at least thirteen years ago, maybe more. I did not know they would do so well when I planted them. As a matter of fact, I planted a few in another location when I originally planted these, and they petered out. Can you imagine how splendiferous these would be, if I had managed to dig some up and divide them every year?

These winter aconites are blooming on the north side of the house

This is the third year winter aconites are blooming in Purdyville. Dare I believe they are here to stay, after several previous failed attempts? We can see these from the bathroom and laundry room windows, so they cheer us on the blustery days when no one wants to venture outside.

You have to turn a double snowdrop upside down to see the exquisitely layered petals.

The double snowdrops are blooming, too. I can see them from the kitchen door, even though they are on the far side of the yard. And for the record, if it had been sunny today, I would have had my first crocus blooming as well:

Almost, but not quite in time for bloom day, these crocus are waiting for sunshine

Inspired by the words of Elizabeth Lawrence, “We can have flowers nearly every month of the year,” Carol of May Dreams Gardens started Garden Bloggers Bloom Day. On the 15th of every month, garden bloggers from all over the world publish what is currently blooming in their gardens, and leave a link in Mr. Linky and the comments of May Dreams Gardens.

Choose locations to plant fall bulbs now

Kathy Purdy — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 03:13:38 +0000

In January, the snowdrops in the Secret Garden looked like this:

Snowdrops in the Secret Garden January 2010

This Sunday just passed–March 7th–those same snowdrops looked like this:

Those same snowdrops in early March

Such are the vagaries of an upstate New York winter. Since then, the temperatures have been mild and the sunshine brilliant, and the snow is receding. This, my fellow cold climate gardeners, is the best time to decide where to plant your earliest spring bulbs. Look around, no, better yet–grab your camera, and record the places in your garden where the snow melts first.

Snow melts first around the base of trees, even stumps

The snow melts in damp areas first, though bulbs for this site must tolerate soggy soil.

The south-facing areas amongst shrubs are another good place for the earliest bulbs

Plant some early bulbs by a corner of the house that traps heat.

South-facing areas near pavement are the best of all. Can you see the snowdrops?

Here I followed my own advice, and in a previous year planted some Galanthus ‘S. Arnott’ in an area that always melts first. I chose this particular snowdrop because it is both large and early. As a matter of fact, a few of them bloomed today, though I didn’t manage to get a picture.

Label Your Images

As you may have noticed, these images don’t look like much. If you don’t rename your images, tag them, write captions for them, or whatever your photo managing program permits, you will look at them in July and wonder, “What was I thinking? Why did I take a bunch of photos of dirty, tired snow?” Put them in a folder labeled Plant Bulbs Here and make a note in your calendar to order them in June, when there are discounts for early online orders.

Which Bulbs Are the Earliest?

Of the commonly available snowdrops, Galanthus elwesii is the earliest. Winter aconites (Eranthis spp.) are reputedly equally as early, though they have not been so for me. I am not sure if they are coming back this year. When they like your garden, they really take off. The small species crocus bloom soon after the snowdrops for me. Two to three weeks after the very first blooms, the larger Dutch crocus, the Siberian squills, and the glory-of-the-snow (Chionodoxa) are all blooming. By then it’s a whole different ball game.

First Snowdrops: Status update

Kathy Purdy — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 22:47:07 +0000

First snowdrops bloomed today *and* it got up to 61F. Yes, mud season is here!

Hitch Lyman’s Snowdrops in NY Times

Kathy Purdy — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 12:02:37 +0000

The only nursery selling snowdrops exclusively, in the NYTimes today: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/16/garden/16garden.html

Scenes from snowdrop heaven

Kathy Purdy — Sat, 12 Apr 2008 22:17:38 +0000

True to his word, Craig of Ellis Hollow did indeed visit the Temple Nursery on Open Garden Day, and took pictures. If you haven’t stopped over to read his account and get a glimpse of the variety possible within the genus Galanthus, now would be a good time to go take a look. I was out of town and couldn’t go myself, so I really appreciate Craig making time in his busy schedule to photograph what must be the most extensive collection of snowdrops in the United States.

Visit Snowdrop Heaven: The Temple Nursery

Kathy Purdy — Thu, 27 Mar 2008 05:40:58 +0000

My main snowdrop “patch” exactly a year ago. They are not so far along this year. Click the photo for a close-up

With all my blathering on about snowdrops, I almost forgot to mention that Hitch Lyman’s garden will be the Garden Conservancy’s first New York state event for their 2008 Open Garden Days on April 5, 2008. If you are able to visit his garden, you will think you have died and gone to snowdrop heaven, because Hitch is the proprietor of Temple Nursery, selling the widest selection of snowdrops in the U.S. (growing over 400 different kinds, not all for sale) and the only one shipping them in the green. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Don’s Galanthus ‘Bitton’ and G. woronowii both originally came from Hitch Lyman’s land, even if they’ve made an intermediate stop since then.

Last year Hitch Lyman’s garden was also part of the Open Days program, but in May. Look at these photos from an old notice about the June 2006 event. All this lusciousness is only about an hour and a half away from me, and yet I’ve never been. And this year I’ll be in Austin for the Garden Bloggers’ Spring Fling, and will miss it yet again. If you are considering going, there is at least one bed and breakfast nearby, the earliest blooms of Cornell Plantations to tempt you, and–who knows?–you might run into local garden blogger Ellis Hollow.

Fortunately for me, it looks like I will be able to hear him speak at the Ithaca chapter meeting of the North American Rock Garden Society, on April 19th. I attended my first Adirondack chapter meeting last October, when I heard Janis Ruksans (and met Craig in person for the first time). Mr. Lyman and I wound up walking back to our parked cars together, and we exchanged pleasantries as we strolled. Of course, I later kicked myself for not asking for a chance to visit and write about his garden at snowdrop time. And now I will be elsewhere when his garden is open. The ironies of life. I hope to have another chance.

Early spring blossoms: Crocus and snowdrops

Kathy Purdy — Mon, 24 Mar 2008 21:22:16 +0000

The temperatures are still dropping into the teens every night (last night’s low: 17.5F or -8C) and even when the high hits 40F (4C) the brisk wind makes it feel chillier. But at least a hurried stroll around the premises is now rewarded with signs that Spring is slowly making inroads in Winter’s territory. These crocuses started blooming yesterday, but despite the sunshine they just can’t bring themselves to open fully.

The snowdrops have finally opened, but still don’t look really enthusiastic. I can’t say I blame them. I know I should be out there pruning shrubs and raking road grit out of the lawn, but when that wind blows, I want to get back in the house just as soon as I’ve checked for new sprouts shooting out of the still semi-frozen earth.

Does my reluctance indicate traces of remaining sanity or lack of horticultural ambition?

Snowdrops: When Does a Bud Become a Bloom?

Kathy Purdy — Sun, 16 Mar 2008 16:42:42 +0000

You tell me: do I have blooms for Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day?

These snowdrops are the furtherest along of all that I have. They have “dropped”; that is, their buds are no longer pointing up, but have been released from their sheaths and are hanging from their pedicels.
Now these…
These are unquestionably blooming snowdrops–but this photo was taken last year, at the end of March. None of this year’s snowdrops have opened:
Yet.

Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day

Carol at May Dreams’ Gardens invites all garden bloggers to share what’s blooming in their garden once a month on the 15th. Visit her post to see what’s blooming in gardens around the world.

My first glimpse of snowdrops

Kathy Purdy — Sun, 30 Dec 2007 16:18:50 +0000

It got up to 51 F yesterday, so I took a walk to see what I could see. And what did I see, but my first glimpse of snowdrops:

What! You can’t see them? Look closer:

Oh…you didn’t think I meant snowdrop flowers, did you? For that you’ll have to wait another two-and-a-half months. Seriously.

The patient gardener is rewarded

Kathy Purdy — Wed, 28 Mar 2007 02:17:18 +0000

Good things come to those who wait. At least ten years ago, I planted the first of these snowdrops lining the path to the Secret Garden. You will have to click on the photo to enlarge it in order to see them, because they are the ones way in the back, on the far side of the footbridge, looking no more than a white blob from this distance. They are the same snowdrops that you see in every header image, because they have been nice, substantial clumps for at least as long as we’ve owned a digital camera.

Since they were given to me by a friend, who had dug them from a field adjoining her property, I really don’t know which species of Galanthus they are. But based on Don’s description, my best guess is that they are Galanthus nivalis. It is quite wet along this path at the moment, and these snowdrops multiply rapidly.

Case in point: all of the snowdrops you see here came from the original ones way in the back. And just as I planted the very first ones, so I planted them all: digging them up and dividing them right after they bloom, and then replanting them, singly, about six inches apart. Every place where there is now a clump of snowdrops, there was once a solitary blossom, scarcely visible against the dormant, soggy grass.