I have always envied those gardeners who brag about having something in bloom three hundred and sixty-five days a year. Living in a cold winter climate, this is not possible for me, unless I count the houseplants and that, in my opinion, would be cheating. The closest I can get, in mild winters, is about ten months of blooms, with sparse showings on either end of the season.
Right now, with hard frosts having touched the last of the rose buds, the predominant color in the garden is brown, with some rose hips and other berries providing spots of color here and there. The variegated euonymus and equally variegated false holly–Osmanthus heterophyllus ‘Variegatus’– contribute color and interest, but they cannot be said to be “blooming”.
Of course all the garden pundits tell you that this is the time to focus on the “bones” of the garden, the lovely evergreens, interesting bark and glowing berries. They tell you that sophisticated gardeners think that flowers are overrated and the least important part of the garden. I don’t mind being called unsophisticated. Garden flowers make me feel good; garden pundits sometimes make me feel irritated.
The plant that is actually blooming in my garden right now is a little snowdrop called ‘Potter’s Prelude’ or Galanthus elwesii ‘Potters Prelude’ to its plant taxonomist friends. A fellow gardener who heard me talking about the appearance of the flowers before Thanksgiving thought that my little clump of snowdrops was an anomaly brought about by climate change. It was not. ‘Potters Prelude’ is a fall blooming snowdrop.
Depending on your point of view, the fall blooming snowdrops are either very early or very late in the context of the usual snowdrop bloom time. The vast majority of snowdrops—and the number of varieties is large and getting larger—bloom in late winter or early to mid spring, depending on variety and weather conditions. Most of the common snowdrops—Galanthus nivalis—are spring bloomers. ‘Potter’s Prelude’ is the exception.
Real galanthus lovers can differentiate between varieties by noting even the most minute markings on petals. For the rest of us, suffice it to say that ‘Potter’s Prelude’ bears flowers somewhat larger than those of the common, spring flowering type. True to snowdrop form, they dangle from slender pedicels or stalks, looking bell-like when closed. The warmth of the sun coaxes the flowers open. Each flower features three large, pure white petals and three smaller inner petals marked in green. They are surprising and cheerful in the nearly-winter garden.
‘Potter’s Prelude’ is not alone in the world of fall-blooming snowdrops. In her book, The Little Bulbs, the great mid-twentieth century American garden writer, Elizabeth Lawrence, described “a trio from the Greek mountains that blooms in the fall.” These include two lesser known species, Galanthus elsae and Galanthus rachelae. The best known of this group is Queen Olga’s snowdrop or Galanthus reginae-olgae, named for a former Queen of Greece who was also the grandmother of England’s Prince Phillip, Duke of Edinburgh. In photos, Queen Olga’s namesake plant appears somewhat taller and more angular than ‘Potter’s Prelude’, with outer petals that are are also pure white. The inner ones have more green than those of ‘Potter’s Prelude’. One of the bulb vendors mentions a reginae-olgae variety called ‘Tilebarn Jamie’ that boasts larger flowers and bears two flowers per stem in contrast to the species’ single blooms.
‘Potter’s Prelude’ has a serendipitous history. According to nursery owner Carolyn Walker, the bulbs were part of a group of common spring-blooming snowdrop bulbs purchased from a Delaware hardware store by a man named Jack Potter. Potter noticed that four of the bulbs bloomed in fall rather than spring. After careful evaluation by galanthus authorities, the fall bloomers were found to be unique and the variety name was registered with the KAVB or Royal Bulb Growers Association in the Netherlands. This body is the International Cultivar Registration Authority for galanthus and most other bulb-grown plants.
You probably can’t lay hands on fall-blooming snowdrops in your local hardware store. If you are planning next year’s garden and want to extend the bloom season with these diminutive plants, your best bet is Carolyn’s Shade Gardens, 325 S Roberts Rd, Bryn Mawr, PA 19010, (610) 525-4664; www.carolynsshadegardens.com. Catalog upon request.
