Are you bored with snowdrops yet?

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Colesbourne Park, Cyclamen coum, Galanthus 'Rosemary Burnham', Sir Henry Elwes, snowdrops, The Plant Lover's Guide to Snowdrops

A sea of snowdrops at Colesbourne Park

If the answer to the title of this post is yes then you probably won’t want to continue reading. I know, I know, you can’t get stirred for galanthomania at this time of year. But lets face it, flowery delights in February are a little thin on the ground, we’ve all had enough of winter and are a bit desperate to see some signs of life in the garden. That’s not to take anything away from the beauty of snowdrops but I do think they owe a certain degree of their popularity to the fact that they bloom so early in the year and there is little else to compete for our attention. For a period of about four weeks from mid-February to mid-March gardens with collections of snowdrops are at their peak and it’s hard to not be blown away by the spectacular sight of carpets of these nodding white flowers as far as the eye can see. In fact it can trick you at first glance into thinking it has snowed and that it’s not actually thousands of flowers. Colesbourne Park in the Cotswolds is our nearest snowdrop heaven. Our last visit, a few years ago, was marred by the discovery the camera battery had barely any charge left and, at the time, we didn’t have a spare. But I’m always happy for an excuse to return to a great garden.

Galanthus ‘Rosemary Burnham’

I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea to have plant labels dotted about and it does make photography a little difficult.  At somewhere like Colesbourne, which is displaying a collection of different varieties, it’s incredibly useful. In fact I’m increasingly finding myself scrabbling around in gardens hoping there’s a label somewhere so I can find out what a particular plant is called. It’s even more important with a plant where the distinctions between some varieties are not that obvious at first glance and perhaps, in the case of snowdrops, even after a few glances. I did hear several ‘they all look the same to me’ comments whispered among visitors as they passed by. I was of this thinking a few years ago when I was just happy to see clumps of snowdrops, but recently I have been slightly bitten by the galanthus bug. When I say slightly I mean I can spot and appreciate the differences between a collection of snowdrops now, but I’m not yet prepared to spend £25 on a tiny pot with one flower and a few leaves in it, let alone the £1390 plus £4 postage paid yesterday for one bulb of Galanthus plicatus ‘Golden Fleece’. My new-found interest has been ignited partly from some of the blogs I read, and partly from Naomi Slade’s book The Plant Lover’s Guide to Snowdrops and the recent talk she gave at the Botanic Gardens in Wales. It was fascinating to wander around Colesbourne on Saturday with my newly appreciative eyes spotting varieties I now recognized and tuning my eyes into the subtle and not so subtle differences between the various varieties.

Galanthus ‘Jaquenetta’

When you first enter Colesbourne the gentle slope and woodland area is a sea of white. These areas are planted with the common snowdrop Galanthus nivalis, the scented variety ‘S. Arnott’, ‘Hippolyta’, ‘Ophelia’ and ‘James Backhouse’. All have formed substantial clumps and are divided in the summer to increase their populations. The initial snowdrop collection was started by Henry John Elwes in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries but it was largely forgotten about until the current owners of Colesbourne, Sir Henry Elwes (the great-grandson of Henry John) and his wife Carolyn, started to uncover plants and build up the collection. We were lucky enough to have a quick chat with Sir Henry and glean a little bit of his expert knowledge. Apparently the best time to divide your snowdrops is in July. At this point in the year there is nothing to be seen of the snowdrops above ground as all the foliage has died back, so at Colesbourne they employ a basic system using coloured sticks. Yellow sticks are placed near the clumps as the leaves die back and white sticks are used to mark areas where there are, as yet, no snowdrops. Then in July they lift the clumps, divide them and replant. When I asked him what was the best method to introduce snowdrops into a garden he said it was with potted bulbs at this time of year.

A charming spring planter

Small groups of the rarer varieties are planted closer to the house, in borders, raised beds and planters. Displayed this way it’s easier to appreciate what makes them so special. My own favourites were the unusual ivory, green-tinged variety Galanthus ‘Rosemary Burnham’ and the green, frilly petticoated ‘Jaquenetta’ (see above photos). I loved the stone troughs that were dotted about with snowdrops planted alongside iris and cyclamen. Snowdrops can be tricky in containers but large ones like this trough would be worth trying.

Cyclamen coum

Snowdrops aren’t the only attraction to Colesbourne. They have incorporated other winter and early spring-flowering plants. I don’t think I’ve seen such large vibrant clusters of Cyclamen coum, the shocking pink flowers shouting out at you. There’s a growing collection of hellebores, gloriously scented winter honeysuckles and viburnum. It’s a magical spot. Apart from the gentle hum of visitors chatting, the valley in which the estate sits is incredibly peaceful and there’s a real feeling of modern life not intruding. This is an old estate with classic parkland, mossy stone balustrades and urns, and a tiny church. The lake, created to provide hydro-electric power for the house, is stunningly and ethereally blue. It’s believed the colour is due to the colloidal clay in the water.

Colesbourne lake

There’s still time to kick off the garden visiting season with some fantastic displays across the country of snowdrops and early spring flowers. I’d love to hear about your favourite gardens to visit at this time of year.

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A Christmas Read – Snowdrops and Edibles

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A Plant Lover's Guide to Snowdrops, Colesbourne Park, galanthophiles, Gardening books for Christmas presents, Groundbreaking Food Gardens, Michelle Chapman, Naomi Slade, painswick rococo gardens, snowdrops, Veg Plotting

The Plant Lover’s Guide to Snowdrops

Time for reading this year has been hard to come by but when I have managed to grab a moment the two books by bedside have proved to be fascinating reading. A Plant Lover’s Guide to Snowdrops by Naomi Slade is perfectly pitched as a present for gardeners this Christmas. It’s the fourth in a series of books by the publisher Timber Press which focus on a particular genus – the others include dahlias, sedums and salvias. Naomi’s book is an enchanting mix of her love affair with these plants, a botanical study, potted history and guide to growing. Most of all I loved the approachable style of the writing. Sometimes books which are focused on one plant don’t hold my attention and can feel quite dry. Naomi has struck a great balance between being both informative and accessible.

The gallery of snowdrops – a selection of hybrids, species and cultivars – is a fabulous showcase for this plant and it includes a guide to how easy or difficult the various snowdrops are to grow. A particularly good idea, as some snowdrops can be quite expensive. I visited a snowdrop day several years ago and was gobsmacked to see the price tags – £10, £15, even £30 – on tiny pots with no more than a small cluster of leaves and a tiny flower stalk appearing. I would want to know my investment stood a good chance of establishing in my garden for those sorts of prices.

Seductive snowdrops

The diversity of the genus and the sometimes tiny, almost imperceptible, differences have made snowdrops a perfect plant for collectors. Galanthophiles as their known are incredibly passionate about these little flowers. I have always loved them. They’re the plant which brightens the January and February garden and they give hope that the winter will come to an end. Seeing them planted en masse at Painswick or Colesbourne is my first garden visit of the year and gives me the chance to escape outdoors. But I would say that I’ve never considered myself a galanthophile. I have slowly built up pockets of snowdrops in my garden but they are all simple Galanthus nivalis, or the common snowdrop. Having read this book though I am considering expanding my collection to at least more than one type of snowdrop. I was very taken by ‘Blewbury Tart’ and ‘Boyd’s Double’ but as both don’t include ‘easy’ in the cultivation section I think I might start with ‘Wendy’s Gold’ with it’s striking yellow markings.

The book is peppered with interviews from snowdrop experts, nursery owners and collectors and fascinating snippets on topics from snowdrop theft to how the bulbs increase using a kind of natural mathematics. It was interesting to see that galanthophilia isn’t just a British phenomenon with the power of this little plant to capture our hearts reaching across Europe, America and Australia. The information on how to grow is comprehensive, as is the guide on where to see snowdrops in the UK and further afield, with lists of snowdrop related events. And, if you’ve been inspired to branch out and add a few other snowdrops to your garden, Naomi has included a guide of where to buy.

Groundbreaking Food Gardens

The second book Groundbreaking Food Gardens is a really interesting concept. It consists of a collection of 73 garden designs created by passionate growers, from community gardeners and professional horticulturalists to garden bloggers and TV presenters, all based around the theme of edibles. The book is published by American publishers Storey so there is a bias towards North American contributors but it does include gardens designed by British bloggers Michelle Chapman of Veg Plotting and Emma Cooper. There are gardens to inspire whether you have a tiny balcony or the space for a biodynamic farm and everything in between. There’s an edible hedge, a terraced hillside, a design based on Asian vegetables and a cocktail garden.

Veg Plotting’s edible garden design

Our very own Michelle Chapman has taken her 52 Week Salad Challenge, which proved to be so popular on her blog, and designed planting plans based on the idea. Successional growing and making the most out of a small space are challenges most gardeners face, both of which Michelle neatly combines in her suggestions. Certainly if you’re fed up of soggy bags of salad leaves from the supermarket this is the design for you. Emma Cooper’s idea is based around creating a self-sustaining garden with an emphasis on space for recycling nutrients including composting, comfrey and chickens.

Initially I thought that because the book was mainly aimed at the American market it wouldn’t feel relevant to my own growing conditions. However, as I read on, I found it is the inspiration it offers and the insight into how growers in another part of the world view gardening and growing edibles that are the attractions to this book. It would have been nice to have had some photographs – the book is illustrated instead – but I understand the logistics of this, with so many gardens included and over such a large geographical area, that this would have been difficult and expensive to do.

So, if you’re starting to think of gifts for gardening friends this Christmas or compiling your list for Santa then perhaps one, or both of these books is just what you’re looking for.

Both books are available online or from your local bookshop.

Many thanks to Rebecca O’Malley at Storey Publishing for these review copies.

Plant of the Moment – Winter Flowering Honeysuckle

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Colesbourne Park, RHS plant finder, snowdrops, winter flowering honeysuckle

Winter flowering honeysuckle

I love nature. Even on the darkest, dampest December day it can still produce something to make me smile, which is why winter flowering honeysuckle is my plant of the moment.

On the way to the shed today I noticed my winter flowering honeysuckle was indeed flowering. I got quite excited looking around the plant to see if there were any suitable branches to pick for the house.

I’ll admit as plants go it doesn’t have a lot going for it. Its leaves are a non-descript green and a plain oval shape. The plant itself grows into a fairly straggly shape and for most of the year it sits there contributing very little to the garden. But from December to March it produces flowers with the most amazing perfume. The flowers are small, like miniature honeysuckle blooms but they certainly pack a punch. The scent is heady like Philadelphus or citrus blossom and is very much welcome at this time of year.

My own plant was grown from a sucker that was taken from my local horticulture college. I was a student at the time, I don’t just randomly raid their grounds for plants I hasten to add. It has established well and this is the first year it has been big enough for me to pick branches from it.

There are 2 types of winter flowering honeysuckle – Lonicera fragrantissima and Lonicera x purpusii. Purpusii is a hybrid of fragrantissima. Both are deciduous or semi-evergreen depending on the weather and microclimate. Both grow to about 3 metres by 2 metres and both produce creamy white flowers with yellow anthers in winter and early spring. I’m not sure which one mine is but it doesn’t matter too much since they are so similar.

We visited Colesbourne Park in Gloucestershire in February to see its famous display of snowdrops, which were impressive but I was most taken by their collection of winter flowering honeysuckles that were dotted about the grounds. I haven’t seen so many in one place.

The gardens were packed with galanthophiles and gardeners desperate for their first signs of spring after such a long winter but I didn’t see anyone stop to smell the amazing winter honeysuckles. Their branches covered in tiny white flowers may not have looked as impressive as the snowdrops but they missed a real treat.

For nurseries stocking winter flowering honeysuckles take a look at the RHS plant finder.