Here’s a plant for our age, if ever there was one. Leucojum, aka The Snowflake. Have you ever seen a more unashamedly liberal flower? A bulbous representatve of the Guardian-reading, tofu-eating, wokerati if ever there was one. This is not why I don’t grow them (if I’m honest, I’d find such nonsense a strong argument to rush out, buy some and proudly stick them in the ground).
It’s more that, as a kind of outsized snowdrop, I’ve always found they suffer by comparison with their much smaller, daintier, and more delicately-proportioned relative. At a good 45cm high, I’ve wondered if they had a little too much stem-to-flower ratio but, as very often happens when wandering about someone else’s garden, I bumped into some last week and have changed my mind. I think I’d been seeing the flowers as the whole point, rather than as the crowning glory on a much longer proposition (you’d think, as an inveterate Guinness drinker, I’d have gotten this straight off). It’s the silhouette of the whole plant that counts – long, bladed leaves, tall stems and all – a grassy kind of clump, adorned with bells, sparkling in the spring sun. Perfect.
In case you missed it…
There’s a new episode of my Gardens, Weeds & Words podcast out now, in which I’m celebrating the wonderful – and highly useful book Wild About Weeds with its author,
. You can listen here.
I planted a few bulbs at the back of our border in the shadiest spot by our pond two years ago and each spring I congratulate myself on this decision. They're lovely and last for such a long time!