Day 120: It's possible some of my readers will remember that last year about this time, I dug up a small clump of Snowdrops (non-native, found growing a ways off the Bud Blancher Trail) and planted them in my front flower bed. You might remember that. I did not. They took me totally by surprise while I was out looking for "blog shot" material this morning, to the extent that I said aloud, "Waitaminit, those aren't crocuses...that looks like Snowdrops" before the recollection hit me. Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised.
Most of the plants I've purchased are carefully labelled, as are some I've lifted (I mean in the botanical sense, of course) from various locations, but only if I have enough information to determine species. "Snowdrops" is a fairly generic term. Are there varieties/cultivars? I'm sure there must be, but I could probably never track down the full identity of a plant discarded from someone's garden as these were. They were "volunteers," as my grandmother called them...bulbs pitched into the woods after being thinned, sufficiently sturdy to set up housekeeping on their own without so much as a shovelful of dirt dropped on top of them; plants with persistence and vigour. Go, you little Snowdrops, and thanks resetting my perspective.
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