The weather is demented – going from cold and bright to heavy frost to milder with lots of low cloud (aka thick fog) – but the snowdrops are really out now, and I don’t care about the weather!
They are beautiful in almost any conditions that the weather can throw at us:
with the possible exception of the fog, where they are just likely to get stepped on. That would be cruel…
They also give me the most splendid excuse not to get involved in the all-Wales weedathon that is my garden: ‘I’ve just got to photograph the snowdrops before the sun goes…’ This also means that I haven’t been able to get involved in lifting heavy slate slabs to see why the level of the paving has dropped (broken pipe is best bet, probably caused by cedar roots in search of a drink). Shame.
And, of course, the snowdrops are giving me a perfect opportunity to finally work out how to use my new camera properly, rather than just keeping my fingers crossed, my finger on the button (difficult, given the state of my hands – operation soon) and my metaphors mixed.
I’m relieved to see that my earlier fears about short stems have been proved unfounded. They’re fine. Stems as usual. Not that I pick them, mind – but I do like them to stand a little taller than the grass. I still end up crawling around, though.
There are plenty of galanthophiles out there who have many beautiful and rare varieties in their gardens, and who monitor them closely and even keep count, and fair play to them: I applaud their involvement. I’m afraid I’ve only got two – ordinary singles, and ordinary doubles. And counting? I’ll settle for ‘lots’.
I’ve planted maybe a hundred or so in the green, the last about six years ago, and I’ve let them get on with it. I did think they’d like it here as there were already a couple of small clumps, even though I didn’t think the garden was an ideal snowdrop home. But it evidently is. The sheer number I now have – big clumps, medium clumps, random singles springing up apparently spontaneously across the top and middle gardens – is testimony to what they can do when they’re happy.
I’m sure they’re happy (and so am I)…