Two of my favorite things about snowdrops is that they are very early-blooming and they are not yellow. Bright yellow daffodils and bright yellow forsythia are cheerful, for sure, but there is something almost too bright about the color in early spring. Unassuming snowdrops make a subtler, more welcoming entree to the changing seasons.

Gardening books talk about “sheets” of snowdrops that have spread so fast and quickly they need to be dug up and moved frequently, apparently to prevent a garden takeover. We may never know if my snowdrops reproduce less because of their DNA, their situation in the garden, or the lack of proper care from this gardener himself. After at least a dozen years, my clump is still relatively small–maybe with a dozen total offsets. Regardless, they give me a lot of pleasure when they poke up through dead leaves and bark to bloom in January/February.

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Below are a couple of pictures of the clump today (4.4.20).

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The spot that I chose for these bulbs is pretty shady, and I think that has slowed their growth. Most years, the slugs or snails find the flowers before I do. I often forget to tear away the old clematis vines above the snowdrops in time for them to make a show. The fact that they still survive and bloom and slowly spread is a testament to the flexibility of this plant.

Last fall, I planted a bunch more snowdrops into the memory garden, which is much sunnier open. We’ll see if they grow better than my original clump.

My 2020 plans for these plants is to feed them with organic fertilizer while they are in growth and to set a calendar notice to clear the way for them in December so they can grow and bloom unfettered.

Here is a hardier version of the flowering maples listed earlier. I grew these shrubs from seed about six years ago. There are peppered about in the orchard bed, next to the house in the dog run, and in a pot on the back patio.

The flowers of these plants are gorgeous–large and silky, in small clusters at the end of branches. The leaves are handsome, as well. Like their more tender cousins, I have the toughest time growing these into handsome specimens. They have long internodes and long, whippy branches atop spindly trunks.

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One of the seedlings has beautiful pure white flowers. They are slightly smaller than those of its lavender siblings, but they light up a dark corner next to the lilac bush in the dog run. I will work to add flowers here of that seedling.

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