Is that you, spring? No? Oh, well, the snowdrops were only wondering. We’ll let them know that it’s still a month and change ’til the switch, though I think they’re committed at this point.
Snowdrops (Galanthus) along Tulip Tree Allée – Photo by Amy Weiss
What would the opposite of a Galanthophile be? Oh, a Galanthophobe, obviously. Or is it a Galanthrope? In any case, apologies to those with a seething dislike for these coy beauties—I can’t get enough snowdrops. And did I mention it’s now the second day of spring? Let’s all hope in unison for the return of the warmth, and soon.
Galanthus in front of the Library Building – Photo by Ivo M. Vermeulen
Kristin Schleiter is the NYBG’s Associate Vice President of Outdoor Gardens and Senior Curator. She oversees the wonderful gardening team that keeps our flowering gardens looking topnotch, curates the herbaceous gardens and collections, and manages the curator of woody plants. She lives and gardens in Fairfield, CT.
Every February, I can be found on my knees in the Garden poking and prodding and looking for signs that my beloved snowdrops are coming up to signal the beginning of spring. Pushing aside the snow, I see small green noses forcing their way up for a whiff of warm air. Even a single sunny day can bring forth elegant white blossoms which have a lovely honey scent. The spring’s earliest snowdrops, Galanthus elwesii, are blooming now in the Perennial and Azalea Gardens. Their glaucous blue foliage and large flowers create a much nicer drift of white.
They’re back! Maybe a little early, but we can never find a reason to complain about snowdrops. Look for them in the Perennial Garden and elsewhere on your walks around the NYBG–they’ll be the cutest blooms around, if you ask Ann.
Snowdrops are springing up in abundance at the Perennial Garden, though you wouldn’t guess from their humble white petals that such an unassuming species is the subject of a newfound global obsession. “Galanthophiles” around the world are gearing up for snowdrop conventions that will draw thousands of fanciers from all corners this year. Maybe you’ll empathize with their enthusiasm.
Gloves, hat, scarf–I brought none of these things when I went wandering the Garden during lunch yesterday. The climate was just so perfectly suited to a stroll. And the greatest benefit of working at the NYBG is that–no matter the climate–there’s something out on the grounds worth visiting. It’s true there’s no luck of a permanent spring with buds and blooms sprouting up from corner to corner, but winter has its own subtle and touching charm.
This season’s odd patterns of sun and darkness make for confusing daytime walkabouts; I hadn’t expected to step out of the office at 3 p.m. only to find dusk creeping along at the edges of the afternoon. Adjusting to this kind of Norse winter is a slow process. (Being a southerner, anything north of Georgia is practically Norway to me.) But I decided that I was already out and about, and despite the settling dark I was going to soak up as much enjoyment as I could from the remains of the day.