{"id":19082,"date":"2019-01-16T11:03:33","date_gmt":"2019-01-16T11:03:33","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.walkhighlands.co.uk\/news\/?p=19082"},"modified":"2021-01-19T13:39:09","modified_gmt":"2021-01-19T13:39:09","slug":"blooming-snowdrops","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.walkhighlands.co.uk\/news\/blooming-snowdrops\/","title":{"rendered":"Blooming snowdrops!"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Few sights lift the spirits on a cold winter\u2019s day quite like the first snowdrops pushing through.\u2019
<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

Hmm, if I had \u00a31 for every article about snowdrops I\u2019d seen that starts with a sentence like that I\u2019d be a rich man indeed. I can easily understand why some folk might feel uplifted at the sight of those sturdy green shoots making their appearance, as snowdrops are widely regarded as a harbinger of spring and most people want that to arrive sooner rather than later. I personally know a great many people for whom a carpet of snowdrops is the only white carpet they want to see in January. Not me! <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
A sight to brighten any winter walk?<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

\nSorry folks, but few sights dampen my spirits on a cold (or any\nother) winter\u2019s day quite like the first snowdrops pushing through.\nNot because I don\u2019t like snowdrops and certainly not because I\nthink they\u2019re unattractive wee things, but more because in January\nand February, which are traditionally our coldest two months of the\nyear, the last thing I want to see are flowers reaching for the sky.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\nDon\u2019t get me wrong, I love wildflowers but in the bleak midwinter I\nprefer my wildflowers as yet unseen, buried beneath my preferred type\nof white carpet – six inches of snow thank you very much! Or I\u2019d\nlike their inevitable emergence at least stalled somewhat by weeks of\nsubzero temperatures and bone-chilling, desiccating winds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\nWinter is, after all, the time when the natural world hunkers down or\nenters a state of torpor. Many mammals, amphibians and reptiles sleep\nit out. Many birds leave for warmer climes. Grass stops growing and\ntrees go dormant. Y\u2019know, typical winter behaviour really.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\nSo when I see snowdrops pushing through an alarm bell goes off in my\nhead and a pessimistic voice screams \u2018WINTER\u2019S OVER! NOOOOO!!!!!\nTheir guerrilla appearance grates just that little bit more when, as\nis the case this year, what we would call \u2018winter\u2019 arguably\nhasn\u2019t even begun by any reasonable benchmark you care to mention.\nSo get back in the ground, snowdrops! And kindly have the good grace\nto let us have an actual winter before you think of poking through!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\nGrrr!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n<long inhale><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n<long exhale><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n<long inhale><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n<long exhale><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n<checks pulse><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\nOkay, I\u2019ve calmed down now. The silly thing about my pessimistic\nreaction, of course, is that those green shoots don\u2019t really\nconfirm that spring is on its way, nor that winter is on its way out.\nThe days might be getting longer but the northern hemisphere is still\nvery much cooling down in January.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A true winter bloomer<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n

\nSnowdrops aren\u2019t like the flurry of flowers that arrive with the\nfirst proper warmth of early spring, such as colts-foot or primroses.\nThey\u2019re a genuine winter bloomer, able to defy the seemingly\nimpossible and burst forth at the least likely time of year. And the\nkey to their early emergence is the fact that they have a bulb\nunderground.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bulbs are believed to have evolved as an adaptation to cope in climates with short growing seasons, as they are essentially underground food stores. It takes a lot of effort and investment for a plant to absorb and store all that energy as a bulb, but it means it can react quickly when conditions become more favourable. It also ensures the plant can be sustained once it has committed to pushing up above ground, despite the marginal conditions for growth. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
April snowfall in Fife, but the snowdrops were still blooming! <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

\nYou might wonder whether it\u2019s worth flowering so early if\nconditions are so harsh, but early emergence can be a good tactic in\norder to ensure survival of the next generation. The woodland canopy\nis bare, which means what little weak sunlight is available actually\nmakes it down to ground level. And because there\u2019s not really\nanything else flowering or even growing, not even grass, it means\nthere\u2019s little if any competition for that weak sunlight, and\nneither is there much competition for space or nutrients.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\nThe snowdrop\u2019s strategy isn\u2019t without risk, of course, because\neven after they\u2019ve flowered the snow and cold can (and usually do)\nreturn in earnest. That especially seems the case in recent years,\nwhere we have enjoyed \/ suffered (delete according to preference)\ncold springs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My home patch of snowdrops is next to a farm road, right at the spot where the tractors and ploughs dump all the snow that they\u2019ve cleared. In most years there are one or two occasions when the snow is piled a metre or more deep, right on top of flowering snowdrops. Thereafter as it thaws and refreezes it gradually compacts down and becomes harder and more icy. You wouldn\u2019t think such dainty wee things could survive, let alone thrive thereafter, especially when they look so woefully squished and bedraggled after being buried by a winter storm. But a natural \u2018antifreeze\u2019 prevents their cells from being damaged and means they\u2019re remarkably capable of springing back into life, defiantly thrusting those sharp green spears up through hard snow. P<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
Invincible, they rise again after being buried for weeks<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

\nProlonged cold can even help the bloom to last longer. Last year my\nsnowdrops flowered in mid-February but, after a cold March that\nslowed their development, they were still flowering in early April!\nThey\u2019re clearly in their element in the winter, and this is\nperfectly illustrated by their French name, \u2018perce-neige\u2019. Snow\ndriller! \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\nAnother disadvantage of an early emergence is the lack of pollinators\nbuzzing about. True, we do get some freakishly mild winters when\neverything goes topsy-turvy and the bees are lured out of\nhibernation, but in most Januarys and Februarys there aren\u2019t really\nany pollinating insects around. So why bother? \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\nWell, snowdrops have a Plan B \u2013 they can reproduce \u2018asexually\u2019,\nwhere the bulb divides to produce a genetically identical off-shoot.\nThat\u2019s why snowdrops tend to grow in small clumps, even within\nthose distinctive white carpets. You\u2019ll likely also have noticed\nhow even after the snowdrops\u2019 white flowers have gone over, the\nleaves hang around for quite some time. This enables the plant to\ncarry on photosynthesising and storing energy underground in\nreadiness for next year\u2019s growth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\nIt\u2019s a dependable method of reproduction, one that avoids the need\nfor pollination or seed production. However, because the long-term\nhealth of most species on the planet ultimately depends on\nmaintaining genetic diversity in order to withstand diseases and\nchanging environmental conditions, it\u2019s in a snowdrop\u2019s best\ninterests to reproduce sexually (using pollen) whenever it can. Wild\nsnowdrops are indeed capable of doing this. They produce seeds that\nattract ants, believe it or not, who then carry the seeds away to\nfeed a small fleshy part of said seeds to their larvae, thus aiding\nin snowdrop dispersal and reproduction. Ain\u2019t nature marvellous?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\nHowever, many of the specimens in this country are sterile and cannot\nproduce seeds. To be honest I\u2019m not entirely sure whether this is a\nnaturally occurring condition that afflicts our common species or\nwhether it\u2019s because most of our \u2018wild\u2019 populations are\napparently descended from sterile clones that were brought from\noverseas and subsequently planted. Yep, that\u2019s right. They were\nbrought from overseas!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What have the Romans ever done for us?<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n

Snowdrops are so ubiquitous and so well suited to our climate that you\u2019d think they\u2019d always been here, but the consensus these days is that they were brought over from central Europe many moons ago. You do find sources claiming it was the Romans who brought them over, which isn\u2019t surprising because rightly or wrongly they get the blame (or thanks) for introducing almost everything to our shores. Rabbits, brown hares, fallow deer, stinging nettles, domestic cats, ground elder, the list goes on. When in doubt, blame the Romans. Or failing that, the Normans. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
Close to habitation – Perthshire<\/a> snowdrops in the grounds of a ruined farm<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

However, most modern planty people now cite the late 16th<\/sup> Century as having the first documented cultivation of snowdrops in the British Isles, whereas the first snowdrop observed in the \u2018wild\u2019 was recorded in 1778. This all makes sense when you think that most (but not all) of the snowdrops you encounter in this country are found close to existing or historic human habitations. There are 20 or so species of snowdrop worldwide but it is Galanthus nivalis<\/em>, known as the \u2018common snowdrop\u2019 that most of us will be familiar with, and having long escaped the confines of gardens it has undoubtedly become \u2018naturalised\u2019 in this country.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This year’s bloom<\/h4>\n\n\n\n

It won\u2019t come as a surprise to learn that I don\u2019t actively go looking for snowdrops this time of year, and so I wasn\u2019t really aware of this year\u2019s emergence until someone tweeted me a photo of some in their garden in Alloa, on 2nd<\/sup> January. The stems in the photo were still mostly green but some of them had white petals emerging. A few days later I was on a Ramblers walk in Dunfermline and we spotted some green stems pushing through. One of the members remarked that their snowdrops in Dollar had appeared in their garden a few weeks ago, and that it was the first time he could ever remember this happening before Christmas. That prompted me to check my own patch of Lomond Hills<\/a> snowdrops this week and yep, they are indeed poking through, and some have already got their distinctive white tips.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\nFor all my snowdrop snarling, these lovely wee plants are actually\none of a few key indicator species that I record the first sighting \/\nemergence of every year. Others include curlew, swallows and\ndaffodils. I\u2019ve been at my current location in Fife since 2010, and\nsince then there has only been one year when the snowdrops actually\nflowered as early as January. That was in 2014, when they did so in\nthe final week of that month. Every other year the flowers haven\u2019t\nopened up until February, the latest of which was in 2018, last year,\nwhen they didn\u2019t flower till week three. Barring a return of wintry\nweather to Fife, which doesn\u2019t look likely till the end of January\nat the earliest, my snowdrops are on track to again flower in\nJanuary, which would possibly make it their earliest emergence since\nI moved here almost a decade ago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\nIt tallies with what others have observed locally, and it\u2019s a trend\nreflected elsewhere in the country. The Woodland Trust have a great\n\u2018live tracking\u2019 map<\/a> for key natural events as they\nunfold across the country, which is fed by public data. Someone just\nnorth of the Great Glen recorded flowering snowdrops on 29th<\/sup>\nDecember, and just in the last week the first reports have come in\nfrom the Central Belt. It\u2019s not surprising that people think\nthey\u2019re out early, given the November and December mean\ntemperatures for Scotland were 1.3C and 1.4C above average\nrespectively.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\nDon\u2019t worry though, I don\u2019t hold snowdrops\u2019 early emergence\nagainst them. Well, not for tooooo long anyway. After I\u2019ve got over\nthe initial shock of seeing those green shoots, and by the time that\nthey\u2019ve flowered\u2026.which usually coincides with at least one\npotent blizzard\u2026\u2026I feel nothing but respect and admiration for\ntheir stoic, elegant beauty. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
My cold heart is melted<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

\nIndeed, I even start to actively seek them out because, like\nbluebells a few months later, they are one of the few species in this\ncountry capable of transforming an entire landscape. Snowdrops have\neven become the focal point of a national celebration, the Scottish\nSnowdrop Festival, and people travel great distance across the\ncountry to see them. I can\u2019t say I blame them really. Snowdrops in\nfull bloom are a truly stunning sight, more than enough to melt even\nthe coldest of winter hearts\u2026\u2026and by that point in the spring\nthaw it is truly useless to resist.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I personally know a great many people for whom a carpet of snowdrops is the only white carpet they want to see in January. Not me! <\/p>\n

Read more ›<\/div>\n

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