“YES!” I exclaimed! “They came back!” Before me was the cupped blade of a single snowdrop piercing up from the soil. I scraped some leaves back and found more shoots. “And, another! And, another!” I added.
It was early November, and I was so ecstatic. I have been searching for bulbs to grow in east Texas outside of those that have a reputation for thriving here. Autumn-flowering geophytes that don’t need significant winter chilling to flower I felt held promise as our lack of vernalization is the limiting factor for many species. Galanthus elwesii var. monostictus (one-spotted greater snowdrop) was high on my list to try.
My introduction to this late autumn flower was from visiting Nancy Godwin at Montrose Gardens in Hillsborough, NC. She turned a handful of bulbs years ago into thousands of plants that now carpet the understory behind her home. I have multiple memories of visiting Montrose around Thanksgiving for one of her snowdrop walks with friends. And, now mine were blooming right on cue.
I had bought some bulbs from Nancy before and tried them in a container thinking that the soil here might be too dry, but I lost them twice. I figured third time was the charm, and I acquired more bulbs in the green from Nancy last winter. I decided to be brave and try them in two in-the-ground locations; both spots I amended with grit and lime to improve the soil conditions.
I planted a few in my fenced in patch where they would be protected from uprooting armadillos and able to get more water during the summer when I irrigated summer cut flowers and veggies. Years ago, I read in Scott Ogden’s Garden Bulbs for the South that most Galanthus should not dry out during the summer and often like wetter spots.
However, Nancy told me that where she has these autumn-flowering snowdrops in her woods turns bone dry in the summer. Therefore, site two was higher and drier underneath trees in a new bed that magically appeared after we lost some azaleas in the freeze of February 2021. I didn’t water this site all summer.
This shaded spot is where I have found snowdrops emerging first, and they are further along than those in the patch where a scraping of soil showed the bulbs are still intact but haven’t produced foliage yet. I’m sure autumn rains are a trigger for emergence, but I ponder if they also need to have cooler temperatures to appear, which they are able to get sooner from the waning shade of sweetgum and oak?
There’s no way that I can grow the multitude of selections my colleagues do further north—well, in absence of a walk-in cooler that is—nor do I wish to become such a collector. But, I’m happy to potentially add yet another geophyte to my garden cast of characters. I may be counting my snowdrops before they have hatched—er, make that returned again next year—but I do believe that seeing them this year in flower is a good sign. I’ll give them my choicest compost with some bone meal, and I’ll hope that next year I can once again be thankful for their return.