Nature Notes

Jenny Dixon

Wharfedale Naturalists Society

wharfedale-nats.org.uk

IN these rather depressing days before we feel our hours of daylight lengthening, I’m hungry for any sign of the new season. It was, therefore, heartening to receive a phone call last week telling me that snowdrops in bloom had been spotted. This pretty little plant that rapidly escaped from gardens and naturalized in the wild is, not surprisingly, a symbol of Spring to naturalist and poets alike.

There is something miraculous about snowdrops: at that point when the last patches of snow are still clinging to the lawn they appear in full flower. In fact I’ve often mistaken a small group of them for a snowy left-over. The rather tough, bright green leaves encased in a protective sheath are specially reinforced to help them through frosty ground – hence one of their old names – snow-piercer.

Old names often tell us a lot about a plant. I’ve found some for snowdrop that show the anticipation, admiration and even affection with which our forbears regarded them: Candlemas bells, fair maids of February and white ladies. The flowers look so very fresh and clean, not the least disheveled despite whatever the winter throws at them – wind, rain, snow, mud. Perhaps it’s not surprising that they should be associated with The Feast of Purification, Candlemas, on February 2nd.

I’d always been told that, although not a native British plant, snowdrops were introduced by the Romans. However, this is now contested and a later date suggested. The herbalist, Gerard, writing in 1597 says vaguely that they have taken possession in England “these many years.” As they are found across most of Europe no doubt they would have got here somehow under their own steam. A hardy plant, not at all choosy about soil type or about location and having a double strategy for reproduction – by seed or, more reliably, by bulbuls - its spread was assured. It loves monastic sites and churchyards, where it makes a wonderful contrast to the dark foliage of ancient yews.

Early herbalists suggested that snowdrops could be used as an antidote to poison. As they do not specify which poison and don’t mention the fact that parts of the plant itself are toxic, I’m rather dubious. However, what need of a medicinal application? The early flowers of these Candlemas bells gladden the heart. I’ve been writing these Nature Notes since 2001 and, leafing back through my cuttings, I see that in 2004 I chose to celebrate the snowdrop. I still do!