It's time to clear the ground for snowdrops and hellebores, writes Jane Powers
For most of the year I manage to go entire days without thinking about snowdrops. But around the beginning of January I'm on hands and knees, scrabbling away at the ground, doing some urgent housekeeping. Weeds and old vegetation must be cleared, because the emerging noses of the Galanthus genus deserve some breathing room, unimpeded by weeds or other greenery (unless it's the complementary marbled leaves of autumn cyclamen or a restful sward of green grass).
Soon the nubby noses grow into long beaks, then into white-eyed darning needles (as the buds begin to show), until finally, by a magic that is freshly marvellous each year, they release floral pearls that dingle-dangle from wire-thin pedicels.
Don't be misled by the delicate appearance of these so-called fair maids of February. These gals are hard chaws: rugged and canny enough to cope with the most atrocious winter conditions. The waxy leaves and petals (or perianth segments, to be correct) make good foul-weather gear. And on cold days they clamp their flowers shut to protect their stamens and styles from the ravages of the season. They unfurl only when temperatures rise, when insects are likely to visit and carry out the important business of pollination - which ensures the formation of seeds.
Buttoned-up snowdrops may be encouraged to open if you bring them into the warmth of the house. But a note of caution for the superstitious: it's supposed to be bad luck to pick the first snowdrop of the year. The penalty, folklore says, is a death in the house - which is why one of this bulb's vernacular names is death's flower.
Nonetheless, the differences between the varieties are more easily examined while you're sitting comfortably at the kitchen table rather than crouching or kneeling on the unfriendly February ground. True snowdrop lovers can never have enough kinds, and spend the months of spring scrutinising the shapes, sizes and configurations of the green blotches on the perianth segments (and the numbers and structures of the segments themselves). There are 150 species and varieties listed in the Plant Finder, and many more are circulated amongst enthusiasts.
But for the person who fancies a taste of snowdroppery rather than a case of full-blown galanthophilia, just a handful of varieties will provide hours of fun. Of course, the common snowdrop, Galanthus nivalis, is a must, if only as a standard by which to measure all the others. The Turkish snowdrop, G. elwesii, is earlier than some, with pleasing blue-hued leaves and a robust appearance. If you have dry soil, this is the one for you. 'S. Arnott', meanwhile, is an athlete of a snowdrop: tall, muscular and with well-shaped flowers. It's also lightly fragrant.
In contrast, a good double galanthus is all froth and frippery, with layers and layers of starched inner skirts. 'Lady Beatrix Stanley' is a beauty that appears in early January. The later 'Hill Pöe' will appeal to the patriotic, as it originated in Riverston House in Nenagh. Add a curiosity such as the yellow-marked Sandersii Group or the donkey-eared Scharlockii Group, and you'll have a nice capsule collection.
Snowdrops are not easy to grow from dried bulbs, so the best way to acquire them is to beg them from other gardeners or to buy them from gardens where they are on display. Give them a fertile soil, with some added leaf mould or garden compost, and, if you're on heavy clay, add a little grit. They increase rapidly and can be divided every two or three years. Be sure to pass your excess bulbs on to friends.
The other spring flower that sends collectors into a fever is the hellebore. There are about 15 species, all natives of Europe and Asia. The creamy-flowered Helleborus niger, the Christmas rose, is the earliest. Unfortunately, it has a disconcerting habit of sinking without trace after a year or two. Much less fussy are the Corsican hellebore (H. argutus) and stinking hellebore (H. foetidus, which is rather unfairly named, as it hardly pongs at all). Both have strong, eye-catching leaf structures and lime-green cupped flowers (smaller in the latter), and they will seed about if happy. H. x sternii is a cross between the Corsican hellebore and the Majorcan H. lividus. It has pink-flushed green flowers and purple-backed foliage.
Yet the most coveted of these early risers are the H. orientalis hybrids, the Lenten roses. Breeding has advanced speedily in the past few years, and the array of "good" forms is now quite huge. Colours range from slatey black to chalky white and include plum, rose, pink, peach, green and yellow. Flowers may be clear-skinned, lightly freckled, heavily blotched or have a serious case of measles. They may be flat-faced, delicately cupped, ruffled or a mass of double petals (although, again, they're not petals at all but modified sepals, or "tepals").
In times past, the only way to get a beautiful hellebore was to divide an existing plant, which meant that increase was slow. There were never enough to go around the gardening fraternity, leading to unlovely displays of favouritism, one-upmanship and extravagance. Now, thank goodness, all that is changed. Gorgeous hellebores can be grown from seed - although they will take a couple of years to flower. When raising your own, a certain degree of ruthlessness is required. Keep only those with nicely-shaped, well-marked (or unmarked) flowers in appealing colours. Chuck out (or "rogue out", as the professionals say) any that are have muddy complexions or grungy colouring.
And, finally, it's time to give your existing hellebores the once-over: snip off all tired and blotchy foliage and give them a nourishing mulch of well-rotted manure or garden compost.
The advent of the hellebores is a sure sign that winter is turning to spring. And that the gardeners had better get their skates on. The year has begun. jpowers@irish-times.ie
WANT TO DO MORE?
You can learn about snowdrops and hellebores at two Royal Horticultural Society of Ireland lectures on Wednesday at 8pm, at Wesley House, Leeson Park, Dublin 6. Willie Reardon will speak about snowdrops; Anne James will speak about hellebores. Admission for non-members is €7.
Altamont Garden, Ballon, Tullow, Co Carlow, 059-9159444. Snowdrop week takes place from February 13th to 19th, guided tours at 2pm daily. Gardens open Monday to Thursday 9am-5pm, Friday 9am-3.30pm, Saturday and Sunday 2-5pm. Snowdrop cultivars for sale at plant centre, also hellebores and other spring plants. Admission is free; tours cost €2.75.
Dillon Garden, 45 Sandford Road, Ranelagh, Dublin 6, 01-4971308, www.dillongarden.com. Open every day in March, 2-6pm. Choice hellebores and other spring plants. Admission is €5.
Primrose Hill, Lucan, Co Dublin, 01-6280373, www.dublingardens.com. Open every day in
February, 2-5pm. Large collection of snowdrops. Admission is €5.
Hellebores from seed: The Germany company Jelitto has a large range of hellebore seed. Jelitto c/o Meadows (Fenton) Ltd, PO Box 78, St Ives, Huntingdon, PE27 6ZA, England, 00-44-1480-463570; www.jelitto.com.
If you're interested in a hellebore discussion group on the internet, try http://forums.gardenweb.com/ forums/hellebore