Snowdrops galore

December and January can sometimes feel completely dead in the garden. So when the first snowdrops appear in February it is easy to get excited about a tiny white flower. Barely taller than 15cm, but usually in clumps, snowdrops can make galanthaphiles and photographers fall to their knees to get a better look.

A dense carpet of thousands of snowdrops spreading across a woodland floor between bare trees.

Native or Naturalised?

Contrary to popular opinion the common snowdrop, Galanthus nivalis, is not a native plant but has become naturalised in woodlands and gardens across the whole of the British Isles. Originally it hails from further south in Europe, from Spain to Ukraine.

Double-flowered snowdrops with fuller, ruffled blooms, growing among crocus shoots against a dark background

Snowdrops are bulbs, generally flowering between January and April. February is the peak month in the south of England. They cross-pollinate easily hence the huge number of varieties and the zealousness of galanthaphiles to spot the next new snowdrop.

A single snowdrop stands slightly taller than the rest, backlit against a soft green background

Using Snowdrops in Your Garden

Christopher Lloyd thought “all of us need more snowdrops in our gardens”. I agree. Snowdrops grow well under deciduous trees where there is not too much competition from grass. The shady, bare spots next to hedges are also good and snowdrops will do well in areas where they will not be disturbed and can distribute their seeds on bare ground.

Rows of snowdrops in bud and flower along a woodland border, with a mossy stone in the foreground

Generally, only the single-flowered varieties are fertile and will spread by seed, the doubles are usually sterile. Snowdrops planted on drystone walls may self-seed themselves on the face of the wall.

A tight clump of snowdrops in full bloom against the blurred backdrop of a brick wall.

Snowdrop bulbs are easily available to plant in the autumn. They usually take a year or so to settle down and flower. I’ve had more success planting snowdrops “in the green”. Last winter my dad gave me several handfulls from his own long-cultivated clumps and almost all of them have come up in my garden this winter.

A close cluster of snowdrops with their distinctive green-marked inner petals, rising above strappy grey-green leaves

Although I really like Snowdrops I’m not that fussy about what sort I grow. Galanthophiles will pay hundreds of pounds for the rarest specimens. Good for them.

Snowdrops emerging through a bed of ivy at the base of weathered stone steps.

“Wild” snowdrops are a bit like bluebells, you’ve got to know where to look for them and once you’ve found them, keep it a secret. I’ve been collecting photographs for some years and these are from private gardens, public gardens, churchyards, woodland and parks.

A group of snowdrops with their heads gently nodding, set against a warm blurred brick background.

If your collection of snowdrops doesn’t quite fill your field of vision they also look good planted in a woodland or winter garden. Try them with hellebores, ferns, cyclamen, winter aconites, arum lillies, primroses and pulmonaria.

Snowdrops nodding among blades of grass, with pink cyclamen flowers blurred in the foreground.

Where to See Snowdrops

Many open gardens have collections of snowdrops, sometimes in winter gardens, often dotted around. The best known place to see them is Welford Park near Newbury; others include:

Angelsey Abbey, Cambridgshire

Hardwick Hall, Derbyshire

Stowe, Buckinghamshire

Painswick Rococco Garden, Gloucestershire

Sunlight glows through the translucent white petals of snowdrops, with bokeh light in the background.
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