‘Tis the Season

Mar23

Last weekend there was a snowdrop brunch here. That sounds kind of fancy but in reality it wasn’t, even if we did use real plates instead of paper. I owed my friend Kevin for helping out at the Gala, and thought breakfast would be a good start, but when he already had plans with another friend who just happens to be Kimberley of Cosmos and Cleome I thought let me invite them both. I had been cleaning up the garden all week, and the lure of food might be my best chance at getting someone other than the dog to look at a few snowdrops with me, so the three of us made plans and another name was suggested, two more people were added, and when someone offered to bring a dessert I had to rename our breakfast to brunch since you know you can’t have a dessert after only eating a few scrambled eggs. Plus I wanted to sleep in of course, and not everyone wants breakfast at 11.

‘Blonde Inge’ is a dainty little snowdrop with the added touch of a yellow mark inside. Sometimes the inner glow makes the whole bloom shine but I’m sure that’s just my imagination.

The brunch went well. I believe with the exception of a horribly weak second cup of coffee which I tried to pass off as drinkable, everyone found a bite to eat and something interesting to talk about and the time passed a little to quickly. I got nervous. What if all these people just came here to hang out and eat and no one wants to freeze outside, crawling from snowdrop to snowdrop admiring how different each and every one is and what kind of history it has and how tricky it is to grow and does it multiply well and where did I get it from and…

A ‘Blonde Inge’ seedling. Very similar to mom, but oh so much more amazing because she was born here in this garden.

Eventually I passed out coats and people took the hint. I had fun. People looked cold. Not everyone seemed to care about how ‘Wisley Magnet’ differed from ‘Foxgrove Magnet’, so I think pancakes will still be required to get them back again, but from my perspective it seemed so much healthier to finally be seen talking to other people in the garden rather than myself. I hinted at food and another visit for daffodils and people seemed open to the idea so hopefully with any luck this wasn’t a one and done deal.

Green tipped ‘Viridapice’ with a flush of yellow winter aconite. I know I show these way too often but this is probably my favorite mix of late winter color.

My favorite comment of the day was something to the effect of ‘What the F*&k Frank, how do you have so much flowering!?’ and generally people had other nice things to say as well, but to my shock not everyone wanted to look at each and every clump, and it was more of a yellow vs green, that one is so much larger, and oh look a double, conversations. So rather than find all new friends who will probably eat just as much I’ll just babble on to you about a few of my favorites for this year… and try and not repeat all the favorites which show up as my ‘maybe favorites’ every other year. Key word there is “try”.

A newer snowdrop for me, galanthus ‘Greenfields’ is completely boring and average, but perfectly formed and sturdy and crisply colored with dark green marks on a good sized and pristinely white flower.

Several snowdrops have come up paler this year, including ‘Ivy Cottage Corporal’. Before people began seeing faces in their snowdrops, the people at Ivy Cottage saw the insignia marks for the rank of corporal in this drop.

‘Dick’s Early Yellow’ is just that, and an excellent grower as well.

Last season ‘Midas’ barely bothered with yellow, choosing green instead but this year the color is closer to gold. Brighter days perhaps?

I think of galanthus ‘Elizabeth Harrison’ as an aristocrat amongst snowdrops. She’s a little delicate and can be fussy, but when everything is going her way the bright yellow and white against grass-green foliage strikes me as quite elegant.

Galanthus ‘EA Bowles’ is amazingly beautiful but died off on me a few years ago. Fortunately a friend was able to give me another start and now he’s settled back in and doing well. Good thing, since my friend went on to lose her clump and now hopefully I can share a piece back again this summer.

As American as a snowdrop can get, ‘Carol Simcoe’ was found in a wild population around Allentown Pa and was introduced by Gerald Simcoe and named after the artist’s mother.

In the 1940’s Heyrick Greatorex named a group of doubles which some people seek out. My favorite is ‘Cordelia’ with her long-lasting, sturdy and upright flowers, but the others which I grow may or may not be the true forms, and may or may not be as favored.

For no reason other than my own curiosity, I’m excited about this entirely average snowdrop seedling. The potential mom is behind and I thought she never sets seed but along comes a seedling which shares her long, narrow ovary but with bigger flowers and wider leaves. I think they’re related and I think I like the mix.

So I think I did fairly well there with minimal babbling and maximum efficiency and I also think that summary reflects my whole snowdrop season in general this year. It was too cold, then it became too warm, and for the last week too windy and too stormy. The warmth pushed everything along in some spots but barely thawed the soil in others. The wind made snowdrop viewing uncomfortable and some strong rain beat up a few things even more, but in between there were still a few perfect moments and that’s all I ask.

The first flowers of the Dutch hybrid crocus always signals the downside of the snowdrop season. The garden will be nonstop from now on!

I hope your season is reving up and full of promise as well, and that it brings you joy. For a few days yet everything seems under control and so well planned, but then the tidal wave of weeds, weather, and watering hits and there’s barely a moment to breath, and if you end up there stop. Make sure you have time to breath and enjoy. I shall be doing that today… unless of course I shovel and move a few tons of dirt to level some dips in the lawn next door which will then need seeding and watering and then perhaps I’ll get to my own back lawn which has plenty of spots which need to be a few inches higher and will also need a couple tons of dirt spread and then I probably have to run out for more grass seed and the first box of ordered plants is sitting on the porch steps… and well… *breath*

Here Comes the Sun

Mar10

What a beautiful weekend. A little windy, a little cold… actually if you went by the commentary which followed nearly everyone’s observation on me working outside you would say it was a frigid weekend… but it was perfect. I cleaned up the front yard, it looks amazing in my opinion but others do not like all the autumn leaves which mulch the street bed. Okay maybe it looks a bit messy and they could have been mulched a little more, but if that’s what’s distracting you after weeks of frozen soil and cold winds well then I can’t help you. Color is back and I’m ready to enjoy.

Some of the first snowdrop plantings here have matured nicely. This is a favorite spot along the front of the house and the shelter from the wind brings everything on a little earlier.

‘Straffan’ in front and ‘Brenda Troyle’ in back. Also a sheltered spot, right up against the porch. Normally ‘Straffan’ is a little later, but I guess this year everyone is anxious for spring.

The rabbits have been caught off guard and didn’t realize the first crocus (‘Tatra Shades’) are ready and waiting. They should find them by tomorrow.

Hamamelis ‘Barmstedt Gold’ is amazing this spring. I might need to collect even more witch hazels 🙂

The driveway soaks up the sun’s warmth and keeps this bed warm enough to bring on a full flush of snowdrops and winter aconite. Cyclamen coum are on the way as well!

The winter aconite in this bed are a mix of the straight species Eranthis hiemalis, plus pale yellow ‘Lightning’ (which is already starting to look tired), and the faded yellow of ‘Schwefelglanz’. I love them all.

The newer snowdrop plantings need to fight for their space. This Dryad Gold snowdrop was planted a little too close to the giant reed grass patch, and I’ll need an axe and a pick to free up the delicate little thing.

‘Bloomer’. I’m showing this just because none of them sold at the gala and it’s one of my absolute favorites. On the plus side I replanted the unsold ones as a second clump, and perhaps next year will be their year!

So that was a hit and run post. I don’t think anyone will miss me prattling on about all kinds of nonsense and I wanted to get these photos up before I take another twenty or two hundred tomorrow! Enjoy your week 🙂

The Recap

Mar8

So what can I say? David Culp’s Gala was fun. Great seeing people excited about snowdrops, talking way too much about snowdrops, amazing lectures about snowdrops, and in general excited about the new gardening year. Selling went well. I was remarkably okay with seeing snowdrops leave my garden, somewhat insulted that a few favorites didn’t sell, and then just fine with bringing a bunch home for replanting. But… I was unusually luke-warm to new purchases and plant shopping in general. For the first time ever I tried to come back with more money in my pocket than when I went down, and in hindsight that was a terrible mindset since there were only 5 new snowdrops for the return trip and now I have to sit for months with only five new snowdrops when I really think all that work should have earned me dozens of new snowdrops!

And for the first year ever I didn’t treat myself to a new ‘Brandywine Hybrids’ hellebore. They were perfect, and seeing the others in the garden starting to stir to life makes the regret even harsher.

Each year the Gala hellebores are amazing. After years of coveting doubles I’m back to singles and any of the picotees or the purple stained whites could have easily joined me for the ride home.

I was distracted though. Maybe even stressed? The day worked out perfectly, but to be honest I woke up at 1 that morning sick to my stomach and got to enjoy that feeling right up to the minutes before the doors opened.. .and then in typical fashion it lifted right as the excitement began.

A few seconds after the doors opened. Tables are full, hands are empty, there’s little socializing but some real intense table scanning! Fyi this is the Suburban Home Nursery table, manned by the always entertaining Kevin and my exceedingly competent cashier-daughter.

Also in typical fashion I took next to no pictures. Just like every other year I’ll apologize and promise better but I think we know the truth, and it’s probably for the best too since 10 out of 10 family members will only use me as the last resort when it comes to any type of event photo. “ugh, just delete them all. Where’s mom?” should be a warning/reminder sticker on the back of my phone.

Edgewood Gardens warming up and coloring up with Adonis amurensis

I think it was mentioned that rather than work my own table, I had already committed to working the Edgewood table for the Gala, and a perk to this was a leisurely tour of Edgewood Gardens the day before. The week of above freezing weather had paid off. Things were embracing the weather and bursting out of the ground and starting off on that spring flush of color. Hellebores, winter aconite, Adonis, witch hazels, crocus… and of course snowdrops were scattered throughout the garden. At one point I was even unsupervised, and the low light, flowers, and bird song were enough to make me want to soak up the moment rather than consider what might fit into my pocket.

The best clump of ‘Blewbury Tart’ I’ve ever seen. How silly of me to have given this plant a lukewarm review years ago, I should have known it was more my growing skills and not the drop.

To round it out it was an excellent weekend. I was almost tempted to return this weekend for the Bend to Bank lecture at Winterthur, and hear Anne Repnow give a talk, but alas it might be time to spend a weekend at home. Trust me there’s plenty to do.

A coldframe inspection at Edgewood Gardens. Quite a few treasures here, both inside and out!

Will I do what needs to be done? Probably, if I can only get started. Last night was spent browsing houseplants on some fraudulent website, and then this morning I had to spend time canceling my credit card and getting it re-issued, but honestly entertaining the dog and cleaning the kitchen took more time than that. The garden is still waiting 🙂

A terrible picture of winter aconite (Eranthis) opening up alongside the snowdrops. I love these first cautious blooms.

So blog post done, maybe breakfast and a shower wouldn’t be the worst ideas either, and then maybe it’s time for a little work outside. Just because I stayed home to get things done doesn’t mean it will happen!

Enjoy your weekend, and prepare for the onslaught of even more snowdrop photos while I second guess the witch hazel and primulas which I also did not buy last weekend. Grrr.

Off to the Gala!

Feb28

I have a gift. Many people have special gifts, but mine is the gift of chaos. I’ve been told that in the midst of chaos I come across as very calm, but the truth is I’m just used to it, since for as far back as I can remember whenever things can go wrong they did, and when it can’t possibly look worse it does, and I guess the silver lining is that it always works out in the end. Kind of along the same line of thought as “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”… except I’m not sure I’d like to push it that far, and I’m just fine sticking with ‘What doesn’t ruin everything might make for a nice story in a few years’. To sum it up, eventually the birthday stitches come out, the garden tour which finished up in the ER becomes a story, and you find a new job after cutting the vacation trip short.

Melting snow has finally arrived, and this exceptionally early winter aconite (Eranthis hyemalis ‘Lightning’) and a few other early risers can finally begin to show off.

I was lucky this time. No toothache on Christmas Eve, but with a table to set up at David Culp’s Galanthus Gala in Downington Pa this Saturday, I shouldn’t have been surprised something would happen. First the car went. I wanted to finish up making labels but first the car had to get to the dealer. Then the water heater went. I just wanted to pot up a few more things. Then the garage door broke when I wanted to move things out and into the other car. Then my nephew told me he was indeed sick and would not be able to help sell… and would also not be able to give my other helper a ride down to Downington. Good times, but also silver lining time. We were able to lift the garage door and roll the car out, the repair bill came in about 2k less than expected, the door is also set for repair, the heater is fixed, a new helper has been tapped,and a new plan to get the other helper down has been set up… even the labels got done. Was it touch and go for a few hours? Maybe, but I’m back to excited and won’t even consider the repair bills until after this weekend’s adventure!

‘Wendy’s Gold’ is probably my favorite for an early bright spot. She waits for the first warm days, sprouts, and never looks back.

So that’s enough woe is me for one post because seriously it’s just life for every one else, except for me there’s the added fun of ‘dramatic timing’. The thing happens and I just look to the heavens and say “good one. Did not even see that one coming”.

Winter interest in the garden is about done for the season. Should old hellebore foliage be removed before blooming? I would have to say yes, and that might be the first thing I do once things calm down here.

So tomorrow in spite of whatever still comes my way I’m off to the Gala with my goodies. It’s been a solidly cold winter… one which coincidentally seemed to start the day after I agreed to sell a few things from the garden… but the silver lining is a burst of warmth in the days right before. Let me share how a few things have turned out.

With everything freezing solid outside, I potted up a few clumps of English bluebells (Hyacinthoides non-scripta) for a just-in-case scenario. English bluebells are kinda awesome and fairly hard to find so of course I’m keeping a bunch.

There will be English bluebells, spring snowflakes (Leucojum vernum), and of course snowdrops and winter aconite. They look pretty good and I would buy them, but not everything came through. Another just-in-case scenario had potfuls of species tulips, and they just don’t look like much so I’m leaving them here. Really. They are barely sprouting and don’t look like much so in the garage they stay and I’m absolutely not leaving them behind because I want more species tulips.

Leucojum vernum out of the garden of my friend Paula. I think they look great and if you’re thinking how much? I suppose $25 a pot will be the price even though I’m worried they’ll all sell and they’re another thing I wouldn’t mind having more of in the garden.

Besides the threat of chaos there’s another thing which gives me sweaty palms on the eve of the Gala. I’m not a good salesman. I don’t really want to get rid of any of my snowdrops so I’d actually be just fine bringing dozens back and replanting them, and I’m afraid my sales pitch will reflect that. They look so nice all potted up. It makes me think of a greenhouse filled with pot after pot of perfect snowdrops and what a shame it would be if I had to build a greenhouse next week because just having snowdrops in the ground isn’t good enough anymore. Hmmm.

Some of the potted goodies awaiting the sale. A few varieties were potted up too early and did not like the last cold blast (their flowers were burned) but most look quite happy. I hope there’s enough variety to be interesting.

If you’ve been to the Gala you may know there’s an auction which goes on. My friend Paula gave me a drop to donate, and I know I’ll feel a little light-headed when I hand it over. A Dutch drop named in 2020, ‘Snowdropfever’s Nelly’s Birthday’ is a vigorous, early, large-flowered snowdrop with strong green markings on the outer petals, and a full green inner. It’s about ready to split into three bulbs, which of course will make for an even better show next year, but even now I think it looks just dandy. Of course Paula found a small offset to share with me, she knows how I am. I hope it grows quickly!

galanthus snowdropfevers Nell's Birthday

Galanthus ‘Snowdropfevers Nelly’s Birthday’. I think it’s been in bloom at least two weeks and the green has only faded a bit. It’s a cool drop.

So I’m looking forward to the day. Oddly enough I won’t even be behind my own table, I’ll be helping out at Edgewood Gardens, only a few steps away, and hopefully that is far enough so I don’t keep taking things off my own table “on second thought” to take back home, because between that and all the other vendor tables there’s a high probability the car is fuller on the return trip than it was going down. We will see.

If I see you there, great! If I don’t I shall try this time (just like I try and fail every time) to take some decent pictures of the day to share later on. Maybe I’ll even try and take a picture of a person or two, because I notice that people somehow manage to do that in spite of all the horticultural distractions and maybe it’s time I broaden my horizons 😉

Gala or not I wish you a wonderful weekend, and I hope you’re also finally experiencing some sort of a warmup and feeling the promise of spring!

Winter? In January?

Jan5

It was a ridiculously warm start to 2025 here in NE Pennsylvania, and at one point I was outside working in just short sleeves… and pants of course, plus shoes… the snow is gone again, the lakes are thawed but that’s all about to change over the next few weeks. We have been threatened with ‘dangerous and hazardous weather’ and some ‘unusually low temperatures not seen since last January’ and I for one feel as if people’s attention span has become so short they’ve forgotten that this happens every year, during the same few months, and we used to just call it winter. Whatever. I for one am excited and relieved. Excited because I love a snowy day, and relieved because if this cold holds as predicted, the earliest of spring bloomers will sit quietly and wait, and then be right on time to explode into growth when the lengthening days bring real spring to this garden. Trust me though, if three weeks of this weather rolls in for mid March I will be far less pleased.

‘Potter’s Prelude’ was well protected under a blanket of snow when the last round of winter gave us a 0F (-18C) low. He should handle the next few weeks just as well, although I might cover the clump if lows veer towards the single digits again.

In the meantime with frozen soil outside, this gardener turns to the relative warmth of the winter garden inside. Cuttings have been repotted, more cuttings have been taken, bulbs have been planted, and a few seeds sown. It always starts out like this, so innocently, until it’s not and I’m looking around in a panic wondering what happened and where the hundreds of pots have come from. For now though we are still happily in the ‘better safe than sorry’ stage of indoor plant care, and ignorance is truly bliss 😉

Seeds have been cleaned and sent off to seed exchanges, but now it’s time to get a couple dozen labels and pots together for some winter sowing of all the new seeds which mysteriously show up.

It’s chilly today with some beautiful sunshine streaming in through the windows but that may not always be the case. The next few weeks are typically the coldest of the year and as a way of navigating through this I’m going to suggest you join in for the Ten Days of Plantness which begins January 12th! Long story short it’s a fake holiday which runs for ten days and involves new plant things and cake and an excuse to ignore the cold outside. It’s like an anti-Lent without the parades and Fat Tuesday and I’m already planning plant-hunting trips with my crew so that will be fun.

Have a great week, stay warm, and for those in the path of real winter storms all the best.

Go Winter!

Dec17

Winter is giving it a try this December and I’m proud of her! There have been chilly nights, brisk winds, snow and ice, and more forced time indoors than I’m used to. Could it be that we are headed for a real winter this year?

The fall blooming snowdrops have been slowed by autumn’s drought and this cold jump into winter. This is Galanthus elwesii hiemalis ssp monostictus ex Montrose and that’s not what the label says since I planted something else in this perfect spot which bloomed a few weeks earlier 🙂

Everyone seems to think it’s brilliantly cold out and will only get colder, snowblowers are revving and snowmobiles are going in for tuneups while the ice fishermen are talking bait and planning their best spots. This weekend we nearly dipped into the single digits (-12C) and it feels like it’s been a while since we saw that in December.

More fall blooming snowdrops, these in a cold pocket which wilts them down but usually they recover… unless it’s ‘Mrs Macnamara’ who does not recover yet still grows quite well in spite of the beating.

This winter seems off to an Arctic start but I’m still not biting my nails worried about the new crape myrtles and camellias which have somehow snuck into the garden. Granted, it was a shock going from the warmest November on record to a little snow and ice, but overall for our little corner of Pennsylvania we’re only averaging about 3 degrees below(!) average… for once… and I’m pretty sure 2024 is still headed towards going down as the hottest year on record globally, which might embarrass 2023 since last year we all thought that heat record was un-toppable.

‘Faringdon Double’ is carefree and reliable in this garden and here it is nosing up and aiming for a January show. What a hopeful sign to see during a a frigid spell of December weather.

Against everyone else I’m hoping that things stay somewhat cold, even if it means being inside more than I’d like, and being bored on nearly every trip outside when the soil is frozen and there’s little to do on the to-do list. The gardener’s plus to a cold winter is that everything goes dormant and stays there. The hellebores won’t be trying to bloom in January only to freeze into mush in February, which is what happens when a fake-spring rolls into Pa in the middle of our winter and forces new growth on things. I’ll take some bleakness for a couple weeks if it means buds are saved for a beautiful March.

Bleakness and a threat? The brutally sharp thorns of the hardy orange (Citrus trifoliata ‘Flying Dragon’) in all their winter starkness. It’s a plant no one will ever snuggle up to.

So it’s cold, and as a result the winter garden is getting more attention that it’s used to and is overflowing with color from coleus, geraniums, and the odd orchid. Poor things don’t know what’s in store for them the minute a thaw rolls in and the gardener is lost again outside, poking around for more snowdrop shoots and other signs of spring. Hopefully before that happens I can share a few of the indoor highlights.

Hope you have a great week!

A Little Weird

Mar13

It’s barely past the first week of March and spring is in full force and normally I’d be exploding with snowdrop excitement but I think all the rain has literally put a damper on it. Snowdrops which should be perfect are waterlogged and beaten, and the warm rain has them opening when they shouldn’t. There were maybe two beautiful days mixed in there, but both coincided with late days at work, and now with a few more approaching I of course have to stay late again. Let me reiterate my plea for millions in snowdrop-admiring grant money if there is such a thing, or perhaps just throw money at me to stay home and garden… although if you can just add a few dollars for a retirement plan and health insurance that would be nice as well.

The un-droplike galanthus ‘Octopussy’. Better care would likely produce a neater, more robust plant but regardless, I still like the weird, green-tipped blooms.

So just keep me in mind if you have a few million laying around without a purpose. My snowdrops could have used the cover of some fancy glass cloches in all the rain, but instead there I was buying pizza and wings for not only my own kids but random friends and girlfriends who showed up, and that really doesn’t help the plant budget.

Returning for another year, the weird ‘spiky’ snowdrop, galanthus ‘Narwhal’ is even more unusual in that he hasn’t died in solidarity with most of the other weirder types. Even with ‘Polar Bear’ planted nearby he’s unafraid and throwing caution to the wind.

I suppose I’ll get over the rained out season. Eventually. In the meantime I’m excited by the possibility the drops might get some attention in the way of care and tending this spring, rather than the usual good intentions and aimless shuffling and looking. If the soil dries someday (although I see another inch of rain in the forecast) things will be up for division and replanting, and I’ve already top-dressed a few singletons with compost this past weekend before the latest deluge rolled in.

Another good grower for me is galanthus ‘Starling’ which is on the milder side of weird yet still odd to consider as a snowdrop. The large flowers make a nice show as they’re held out horizontally at first and then begin to hang as the bloom ages. I hope it continues to do well here.

The weekend’s deluge lasted all Saturday afternoon. Fortunately I took these photos Friday so had that at least to tide me over.

Not really weird, but galanthus ‘Flocon de Neige’ always looks a bit weird under my care. Well grown plants can be one of the most beautiful snowdrops, but mine always look a bit ‘peaked’, so I’m still working on that.

As I worked through the pictures I guess there are quite a few in bloom and it must just be that I’m more accustomed to them bursting out of the cold ground and looking perfect in the sun rather than a trudging tired from weeks of deciding if it’s time to grow, and then finally making a go of it in the gloom. Like myself I think they prefer sun, even if it’s a cold winter sun which barely melts the frost.

Nearly a traditional snowdrop, galanthus ‘Angelique’ is all white elegance with its extended inner petals.

Okay, so time to stop the complaints. Sunday morning the sun was out for about 20 minutes so I jumped out to enjoy it and then eventually tried to tackle a few things which were do-able in the muck.

‘Galadriel’ is late enough to still be perfect in spite of the weather. She’s one of my favorites and the tall flowers show an elegant line of green on the inners when fully open.

I decided moving trees and shrubs was a priority. Six Serbian spruce were moved from the potager to the other side of the berm slope, and perhaps someday a full wall of evergreens will block the industrial park. A few other shrubs were moved around the yard and some final pruning happened before the snow started falling too furiously.

‘S Arnott’ is still looking nice yet a little tousled from the weather while the double ‘Flore pleno’ behind him is still going strong. I mention this only to fuel the fight between myself and my friend Kathy as to which is the better landscape drop.

Luckily I sat down right as the bulk of the snow started falling. It’s much easier to shake off snow rather than clean another seat off for the next rest break, so that worked out well. Also what worked out well was doing this in the backyard rather than the front since yet again I was the only one out there gardening in the snow and I can be much less self-conscious about it when fewer people can see me.

About a week ago, after announcing the arrival of spring, several of the hardiest plants came out again after spending winter inside the garage.

While I sat out there in the snow waiting for someone to yell at me to get back inside the house what’s wrong with you you’re sitting out in a snowstorm I considered the plants which I had already taken out of the garage and placed outside for the year.

As the snowdrops fade the hellebores step up. These seedlings should really be looked over and thinned out, but I can’t help but find good in each bloom…

The thinking only lasted about ten minutes before the work involved in dragging things like geraniums and dracaenea and amaryllis back helped make up my mind. I chose the ‘easy come, easy go’ option. They’re near the foundation, the lows should only drop to 30-31F and as you know I have too many plants. Fortunately a brief review the next day didn’t show any damage so I guess I’m relieved?

The sun finally made an appearance after the first snow squall rolled through.

So that’s about where we’re at. Spring was here, it rained, it rained, it snowed, it got cold, and now for the next few days it’s quite warm. The first daffodils opened, a nice one called ‘Snow Baby’, but this early one also doesn’t like warmth and will likely fade quickly while other sturdier types take over. That should happen tomorrow. The first ‘Tete-a-Tete’ is hours from opening and by the end of the week there should be masses of corydalis, bunches of hellebores, and a good amount of daffodils taking over. I’m sure I’ll be out there.

Narcissus ‘Snow Baby’ aka ‘Ice Baby’ with an appropriate background. The pale yellow will fade to white within another day or two.

This rapid progression sometimes bothers me since the crocus will likely start and end within a week, but the pace brings something new on every day and that’s kinda fun as well. It’s just weird starting a post with a cold drizzle, witnessing a blustery snowstorm, and then finishing with warm sunny days.

The spring snowflakes (Leucojum vernum) always follow on the heels of the snowdrop season, and perhaps next spring I’ll be quick enough to get some good pictures of the newer plantings.

I actually planted pansies today. An excuse presented itself and before I could overthink the idea I found myself at a nursery filled with fresh pansies and perennials and (still tiny) annuals. They were closing soon, I buy more when I’m rushed 😉

Enjoy the rest of the week, and I hope you’re also seeing some sun, warmer weather, and signs of spring!

Cool

Mar14

I’m feeling a little guilty since I expected great things for this snowdrop season, but never expected it to go on forever. I’m apologizing. Sorry that every post for the past few months has mentioned ‘snow’-anything, and as the East coast gets a little winter weather, and parts of the West coast tunnel through to find front doors and buried cars, I’m also sorry that there’s no end in sight. I’ll try to be quick.

The view from the street is starting to hint at a snowdrop theme, and I think they’re ready for some more dividing and spreading around this spring for an even better show next year.

These photos were taken yesterday afternoon, and today we’re looking at about four inches of snow covering them, but the white stuff always melts quickly in March, even when a foot or two drops. Fortunately we don’t have that here… Sorry Eliza 😉

Finally a flower that’s not white. Crocus heuffelianus, ‘Tatra shades’ doing well but I bet a little dividing and spreading around (once they go dormant) would make for an even better show next year.

A light snow will highlight any new sprouts and flowers which stand out above the snowline, and surely mark them for decapitation by rabbits, but for a few days at least we were able to enjoy them. The rabbits probably figure out real quick that snowdrops are a yuck thing, but crocus are not, and once they find the first blooms they’ll spend the next night or two searching out every last flower in the yard. Good for them I guess. I do get annoyed when they keep coming back to eat every attempt the crocus make at growing foliage, since it will weaken next year’s show, but for the few days the crocus are in flower I don’t mind sharing… a little…

A white flower which is not a snowdrop (Galanthus). I love snowflakes (Leucojum vernum), and this form, which lacks nearly all the green of the normal tips, is even more special. I need to divide and spread around this and the clump behind so it bulks up quicker and puts on an even better show next year.

So that’s two flowers which are not snowdrops and I feel less sorry again, so back to normal!

Can you tell I never pruned that rose last year? Add that to the list. Also add dividing ‘Augustus’ to the list, he’s the drop in the front and with such nice foliage I think dividing and moving him around to a few new spots would make for an even better show next year.

Did you notice a few snowdrops behind ‘Augustus’? They’re all random patches of the giant snowdrop (Galanthus elwesii) and are quite a few more snowdrops than I need. It’s hard to plant new snowdrops when the spots are already filled with old snowdrops so I might have to address all the less-special clumps and their seedlings this summer. Seedlings. Don’t even get me started on seedlings. I have baby snowdrops coming up in all the wrong places, and even though every snowdrop is special your own babies are even more so which means they all need attention.

I’m guessing this is a seedling of ‘Blonde Inge’ because of the bright yellow inner petals, even though I’m not sure how a seed managed to travel the six feet between here and the mother clump. There are a few more scattered about but they lack the yellow and are just plain green. All of course should be divided and moved to spots of their own for an even better show next year.

Although it’s a good excuse, the gardener here isn’t using the on-again, off-again cool weather and snow as a reason to sit on the computer all day looking at daylily sales. He did already divide and move a few bunches of snowdrops to new locations. To be honest it amounted to about 25 minutes of work between vacuuming plaster dust and scooping ice cream, but it does fall into the work category so that’s a good thing. Take a trowel or small shovel, dig deep to avoid slicing through the deeper bulbs… which for some reason always happens anyway… tease a few bunches apart or take it down to single bulbs if you’re greedy, trowel out a new spot and shove them in at the same depth, give them a little drink to settle in. My gardener uses a water-soluble fertilizer like Miracle-Gro as the drink, but better gardeners with more ambition could work in soil amendments and organic fertilizers to start your new plantings off on a good footing.

The new stone wall will probably need rebuilding some day as a result of poor workmanship, but at least the results of the 20 minutes spent planting these snowdrops will last. I can’t wait to see them settle in for an even better show next year!

There’s snow on the ground, the year is barely off to a start, and I’m already obsessing about next year. Sounds about right. I hate to think what I would waste my time with if it weren’t for the garden, probably something silly like managing retirement investments, or monetizing a youtube channel or Ticktock feed. Who needs that, right?

Enjoy this flashback to winter, and may all your bids on your favorite daylily auction not win especially if you were counting on a lot to not win since that’s a bunch of daylilies even if you have a daylily farm to plant. Yeah 😉

A Gala Comes and Goes

Mar10

Last weekend Downingtown Pennsylvania played host to a ‘Galanthus Gala’, an American version of the late-winter gatherings which have tended to form amongst growers and admirers of the brave little snowdrop. As a grower and admirer I felt it was my duty to attend, and true to form I arrived late and stayed too long. Also true to form I forgot to take pictures, which really cuts into the the basis for any of my posts, but content and quality have never stood in my way before so here goes!

My only photo of the vendor area. Thank you Timothy for this one, when he stopped talking for a second to take a photo, I was inspired to do the same. The crowds have thinned and there’s bare table. This is several hours after the frenzy of the doors opening.

I was glad to be there talking to friends, going on and on about plants and snowdrops, listening to talks, getting expert advice, soaking in the atmosphere, enjoying the auction… it was the return of the gala I had missed during the two year pause from Covid.

A little bit of celebrity at the Gala with the famed author David Culp alongside a friend who came to join him. Many thanks to my friend Bridget Wosczyna for this photo, she has enough sense to photograph people as well as all the plant treasures.

So to stick with the important highlights let me just mention that David Culp has read my blog but I don’t think his friend Martha has. But… David’s partner Michael Alderfer admitted he had read the last post about our visit to his garden and that’s one of the highlights of my day for sure. I hope I wasn’t too awkward when he said it though, because for a few seconds I thought he was joking with me and so I of course tried to change the subject pretty fast. Fortunately the Galanthus Gala’s artist-in-residence, Gerald Simcoe, was also there and we started talking about his amazing gala centerpiece. I don’t know if Gerald reads my blog, but I do know that if you click the link for his name you’ll not only access images of some of his artwork, but you’ll also be able to find your way to his online snowdrop listings. All the galanthus in his display are out of his own woodland, and to add to the fun he’s listed some for sale on his site.

A corner of this year’s centerpiece featuring ‘Walrus’ and ‘Blewbury Tart’ behind. ‘Walrus’ struggles here, and to hear Gerald say he divides it and spreads it around just in case a clump decides to pick up and die made me feel a bit better about my own clump’s failure to thrive.

At times during the Gala events there was an air of sadness, as the recent death of Alan Street was still fresh on the minds of many. Alan was Head Nurseryman of Avon bulbs and is one of the great names of the snowdrop world. He was one of the featured speakers at the last in-person gala, and to hear him talk of special drops and the stories behind them, peppered with references to art, literature, and mythology, was a treat to everyone in the audience. I didn’t know him personally, but he struck me as a fun person with a spark of mischief, but also a plain nice soul. At the last gala I stumbled upon him and his friends eating lunch, and tried to be unobtrusive on a bench in the corner, but he spotted me and insisted there was still plenty of room at the table for another chair or two. And that’s how I ended up eating lunch next to Alan Street. I don’t think he ever read my blog, but he was so polite that day asking about my little backwater garden and what I was growing, that I felt like a brilliant grower, on par with one of the greats, and it was my highlight of the day.

A growing legacy in the Downingtown Friends Meeting House cemetery. Each gala, attendees are encouraged to bring and plant a few snowdrops in memory of loved ones. It has been heartwarming to see the plantings of past years begin to grow and flourish.

Of course these things end too quickly and before I knew it I was back in the mountains spending the evening taking kids for ice cream and dropping them off at basketball games. Just for the record these kids do not read my blog.

The Gala haul, a mix of trades and purchases but all purely excellent. For some reason I bought one more pot of gravel which claims to be an expensive peony seedling, and it’s things like that which you never see coming.

All the hardier purchases were planted out the next day, which is unusually prompt for me, because it was such a nice day (in spite of being just 24 hours after the latest slush and ice storm).

It took me a number of years, but I can finally appreciate ‘Modern Art’. This is after several years of a ‘just meh’ opinion.

‘Armine’ is particularly large this year. Here it usually colors more yellowish than deep green, and as it gets paler, takes on the airs of a much more expensive ‘color changing’ irrlicht drop.

Galanthus ‘Lapwing’ in front with his distinctive inners, and ‘Erway’ behind with his odd ovary and overall paler foliage and stems. I don’t know if ‘Erway’ looks the same everywhere, but here he’s pretty consistent in his pale coloring.

As you’ve probably guessed, the rest of this post is just random snowdrops around the garden. It’s been a long, drawn out season with few destructive cold spells, and no loads of heavy snow, so the drops have never looked better.

‘S. Arnott’ clumping up from his original single bulb. This is one to divide and spread around, I can’t imagine ever having too many.

‘Good Blue Leaf’ is one of my favorite forms. Everything about it is perfect and I’ll divide this one as well, more so you can enjoy the uncrowded blooms and foliage.

If all goes well I’ll be investing some time this spring into dividing and moving crowded clumps, and addressing wayward seedlings. I can’t possibly complain about volunteer plants, but I don’t want them confusing the names of my purchased bulbs.

Yellow snowdrop seedlings are marching away from the original mother clump of ‘Primrose Warburg’. I’m surprised by how consistent the seedlings are, nearly all of them could pass themselves off as the original… which they are not.

Perhaps I shall start a ‘good’ seedlings and an ‘average’ seedlings bed, in addition to my North Pole bloodbath bed and my white trash bed. Last weekend a friend traded me a ‘Beluga’ to swim with ‘Narwhal’, and threw in a ‘Polar Bear’ to see what happens. Hope it doesn’t get too ugly adding such a predator to the mix.

Lest you become too impressed by this year’s snowdrop photos, this view shows something a little closer to reality. Closeups and careful cropping make things look far lusher than an in-person visit would show.

Speaking of visits, the dog has become a regular even though he’s always a regular, and a total of two children have toured the garden. Although they haven’t mentioned being impressed by the snowdrops, I’m sure they are and that brings this year’s tour total to three. Perhaps this is the reason I enjoy the Galanthus Gala as much as I do. It’s always nice to escape the eye rolls for a day!

Snowdropping ’23

Feb26

It’s a shameful fact that for as much as I talk up the year’s snowdropping adventure, I also drag my feet in getting the post up. It’s been a week. A week and a little, and I need to stop going through the pictures again and again, reliving the day, and just get them out there with as little babbling as possible. Fortunately the morning is cold so maybe for a few minutes I can be productive while the flowers here soak in the sun before standing back up… and again completely distract me.

Naturalized snowdrops (Galanthus nivalis), winter aconite (Eranthis hiemalis) and spring snowflakes (Leucojum vernus) in a Pennsylvania park.

I started the morning on my own, wandering through a Philly area park admiring the century old blanket of snowdrops and other spring bulbs which carpet the now neglected former estate. There used to be a dream that I’d stumble upon some priceless new variation in white here, but over the years I’ve become satisfied with just seeing them greet the spring each year and carry on unbothered. Between my crawling through the underbrush and bending over backwards to admire trees it’s a miracle I haven’t yet left the park on crutches after tumbling down a rocky embankment, but so far so good.

When planting trees always remember proper spacing and mature height.

I survived, and so off to meet Paula at her garden. It’s been a few years since I’ve had a full-sun, comfortably warm visit there, and this year we made it a priority.

The patches of snowdrops are becoming sheets!

I always get stupidly excited to see all the bulbs in bloom, but this year to see it all in full sun with the blooms wide open I may have let out a naughty word as I got out of the car. That’s a lot of &*^@g snowdrops was my eloquent first impression.

I always love the mossy bed surrounding this ugly old ‘Kwanzan’ cherry tree. There’s so much character in the tree and even though it’s a pain fighting the roots and keeping it in shape I hope it stays for a number of years.

It’s hard taking it all in yet finding the time to focus on all the different forms. She has quite a few and there’s a story behind nearly every last one. Fortunately Paula knows me well enough to not get offended when we’re talking about one clump and suddenly I turn to take a picture of something else or jump over to a new plant!

A big clump of a big drop, ‘Rodmarton Regulus’.

My wish list always grows during these garden visits.

One of the greenest of the greens, galanthus ‘Green Mile’.

A growing clump of ‘Amy Doncaster’

The witch hazel Hamamelis x ‘Princeton Gold’

There was something other than snowdrops which really caught my eye (besides the hellebores and witch hazels), and that was the pink viburnum (Viburnum x bodnantense ‘Pink Dawn’) in full bloom. It actually caught my nose, and I followed the scent over to where the shrub was tucked into the shrubby edge of the garden. Of course I’ve already looked for a source 😉

The fragrant pink blooms of Viburnum x bodnantense ‘Pink Dawn’

With all the distractions, this visit was running into our typical behind-schedule run-mode, but because we sometimes know our limits we made sure to pencil only one more garden into the day.

White snowdrops, blue reticulated iris, and a bunch of other things spread around the driveway slope of Paula’s garden.

It’s almost time for the Galanthus Gala, and Paula’s got a bunch of stuff dug and potted for the day, but that doesn’t mean there’s not more planning and preparation needed. I knew she was headed over to David Culp’s Brandywine Cottage to meet with David that afternoon and discuss, so of course I invited myself along.

The fenced in vegetable garden feels like the heart of the gardens at Brandywine Cottage, and even in the middle of February there’s a jewelbox bed of floral treasures outside the gate.

The gardens were at a snowdrop peak and I don’t even know why I’m bothering to post since books have been written and photos taken which are far superior, but it was an exciting visit and David was nice enough to say ‘post what you want, I enjoy reading your blog’…. um, did you catch that? David Culp said he knows I have a blog and says he might have read it? Honestly I’ll probably try and work that into nearly every conversation I have from this snowdrop season beyond, and I hope it’s not too embarrassing when he finds out.

Yellow on yellow with winter aconite and a nice yellow hellebore with just a faint blush of speckling.

Oh and also these pictures. David’s last two books, ‘The Layered Garden’ and ‘A Year at Brandywine Cottage’ were photographed by Rob Cardillo, so I hope I don’t embarrass myself on that level as well since all my photos rely on luck rather than skill.

Plantings along the driveway. There was actually an apology that we missed the lavender sheet of crocus which had mostly ended.

Not the fanciest view of the cottage, but this view shows how every bed of the garden is layered with snowdrops, snowflakes, winter aconite and other goodies which shine before the perennials and shrubs take center stage.

David and Micheal know how to live, and ‘A Year at Brandywine Cottage’ sounds real fancy with decorating suggestions, planting ideas, and delicious recipes and all the things you like to see in a book, but the crazy thing is that’s just Tuesday to them. You pull up on a Wednesday and there’s a bowl filled with floating hellebore blooms, celeriac soup with a crème fraîche, a toasty living room with fire burning, cutflowers, winter arrangements inside and out, friends pulling into the driveway… It’s pretty cool.

Paths through the garden, snowdrops are settling in everywhere.

There was a bunch of snowdrop talk. There was also snowdrop work which was in progress, but you’ll have to wait until the gala to hear more of that since the heart of it was going on in the growing beds. Clumps were being selected for dividing and potting up in order to fill the sales table, and for the sake of honesty I had to steer clear of any place where shovels and fancy snowdrops were close to one another. We headed round to the meadow and up through the hillside instead.

Paths meander throughout the sloped areas of the garden. If you’re familiar with ‘The Layered Garden’ you’ll know this all began with a noxious, weed-filled slope and a run-down shell of a cottage.

Treasures are tucked throughout the hillside.

Of course we stayed too long. The light was already dimming as we meandered back off the hillside.

Hellebores and a million other things cover every inch of the slope, and there’s much more slope than you can see here. In another week or two the scene will completely change as all the narcissus come in and the hellebores really get blooming.

The hillside is filled with hellebores, and for many people ‘Brandywine’ is more a strain of hybrid hellebores rather than a cottage. There’s a reason for that. Early on in the development of modern hellebores David asked friends overseas for the best and brought back a bunch of these to the US to start ‘dabbling’ with his own hybrid strain. He wanted a few “nice ones” for the slope and needed more than just divisions could supply, so over the years the ‘Brandywine Hybrids’ came into being. They were my first experience with a more upscale hellebore and the strain made plants with clearer colors and more outward facing blooms available to even the more average gardener.

A red section of the slope just getting started. Notice they’ve all been trimmed back of their old foliage. Thousands of plants all trimmed neatly and the debris removed…

A perfect combination of structured shrubs, background evergreens, and spring enthusiasm.

So hellebores are awesome, but for a little while longer all my focus is on snowdrops and snowdrop galas. David Culp’s snowdrop gala is set for this upcoming weekend (March 3rd and 4th) and will again make Downingtown Pa the epicenter of American galanthophiles, either in person or in spirit. There will be online events, in-person and virtual talks, auctions, and Q&As, plus my favorite part the specialty vendors. I’ve been good and only contacted one seller for a super-special plant, but that doesn’t mean my budget ends with that. There’s a reason I’ve been holding back with online sales 😉

So maybe I’ll see you there, maybe I’ll see you online, maybe I’m glad this weekend worked out well and didn’t disrupt my plans on attending, but however it works out I hope you’re having a great end of February!

sorta like suburbia

more than you ever wanted to know about my garden

Tag Archives: American Snowdrops