Who does not love a snowdrop? The pure white of their pendulous petals may be chilly, but who cares when they flower in the chilliest months, often on their own, or accompanied only by hellebores and aconites. I grow a number of snowdrop species and cultivated varieties, as well as unnamed seedlings that seem to appear out of nowhere, since these bulbs are relentlessly promiscuous. They pop up especially in shady borders under deciduous shrubs or among evergreen and herbaceous perennials, and they are the best sight to greet me on my daily garden walks in January and February.
The word ‘galanthophile’ does not quite convey the fanaticism of the true snowdrop lover. These gardeners, blessed with a distinct botanist’s bent, spend the coldest days of the year in each other’s gardens, mainly on their knees, worshipping these diminutive gods with names like ‘Dionysus’, ‘Hippolyta’ and ‘Galadriel’, as well as mortals like ‘Mrs Macnamara’, ‘Lady Beatrix Stanley’ and ‘Bill Bishop’.
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