Snowdrop

Family:Amaryllidaceae (Amaryllis family)
Genus: Galanthus
Species: nivalis

Even before the Chinese witch hazel (Hamamelis mollis) is brave enough to send its blossoms out to face January’s wintery blasts, it’s likely that snowdrops will appear in your garden—if you planted them this last fall (or any fall before). That’s always the challenge of writing about bulbs or, in the case of Galanthus nivalis, corms. There’s a significant delay between the time that you bury those dry-looking lumps in your well-prepared beds, and the day that the glorious little flowers appear to remind us that the garden is waking up to a new season.

The part of Galanthus nivalis that is planted is in fact a corm. In common use, most thickened underground stems are called “bulbs,” but there is a real difference. True bulbs—lilies, daffodils, and onions, for example—are rounded, with fleshy internal layers—called scales—that store food and protect the developing plant inside. Think of what an onion looks like when you slice it crosswise. Corms are underground stems with no scales; the food is stored in the solid tissue in the middle. New corms replace the old ones each year. Gladiolus, freesia, crocus, and yes, snowdrops, all grow from corms. Rhizomes—iris and calla are examples—are swollen underground stems that are often horizontal and spread by creeping. They can be long and narrow (some grasses) or shorter and fat (iris). And a tuber is a fat underground stem—think potato and tuberous begonia—similar to a rhizome, but usually more rounded. All of these are forms of underground stems, from which both roots and shoots emerge, as opposed to tuberous roots, which are underground food storage systems that are not stems. Growth buds emerge from the old stems at the base of the plant, not from the tuberous roots.

Snowdrop corms should be planted 3 inches deep in a well-prepared bed where they can settle in for a long time. They are happy in the open or under deciduous trees, receiving full sun while they are blooming but spending the summer in shade. They will naturalize, but slowly, both by corm and by seed. To divide them, lift the corms right after the plants flower, while the leaves are still green, and replant them quickly. They don’t take well to having their corms dried out.

Do plant your snowdrops where they can be seen close-up. Their small and intricate white flowers bear close examination and are less effective when massed at a distance. Leave that effect to daffodils and some of the more dramatic tulips. Snowdrops are tough, belying their delicate appearance; they’ll bounce right back after even a heavy snowfall. They’re native to the alpine regions of Europe and Asia, and even the name of our featured species—nivalis—is derived from the Greek term for “near the snow line.” There are other species—12 at last count—that vary in bloom time, vigor, and color details. There is even an autumn-blooming Galanthus—G. reginae-olgae—so if you’re doing your gardening planning now, you may want to give that a try. But since snowdrop is the English garden emblem for January, and because it is a reminder that the plants in the garden so often symbolize renewal, I prefer to look at the snowdrop as a sign of the beginning of the season, rather than the end. It won’t be long before the cultivating starts in again. And aren’t we glad that’s how it works. There are only so many days we can spend looking at catalogs before the urge to be out scrabbling in the dirt becomes irresistible!