From “Snowdrops and Snowflakes” in Garden Bulbs for the South by Scott Ogden:
“The spring snowflake (Leucojum vernum) is as ill-suited to Southern conditions as most snowdrops, but this failure is of little consequence. Although the species often appears on the lists of importers, they invariably ship the similar summer snowflake (L. aestivum) in its stead. This one positively thrives in the South, and you could hardly ask for a more appealing spring flower.
“The name leucojum, an old one used by Theophrastus, translates as ‘white violet.’ These tiny, pure white, bell-shaped blooms have a subtle, sweet fragrance and appear in drooping clusters of two to six. They rise on twelve-inch stems directly from the robust, clustered bulbs. The six snowy petals are marked with unique thickened, green spots at the tips, and these give the fairy-sized blooms an air of unreality.
“This is somewhat overcome by the tremendous bunches of lush green leaves that rise from the round, narcissuslike bulbs. This excess foliage is needed to set off the tiny sprays of bloom, and does a fine job if the bulbs are planted in clumps of at least six. ‘Gravetye Giant‘ is a select large-flowered form that originated in the garden of English horticulturist William Robinson. Worth seeking out for its large blooms, it does not seem to be as rampantly vigorous as the ordinary strains common to Southern dooryards.
“In their homes around the Mediterranean these bulbs grow in mucky soils along streams. In such situations they prosper on a surplus of spring moisture and a long summer baking. This prepares the flowers especially for the heavy clay soils of the South, but they perform well on moist sand, also, thriving equally in sun or full shade.”
Hello!
This is the first of two posts featuring photos of Leucojum vernum, or Spring Snowflakes — which grow and spread in abundance in several shaded areas of Oakland Cemetery’s gardens. They seem to have a relatively long blooming period; I took some of the photographs on March 4 and the rest on March 29, and there were still plenty of unopened blooms getting ready for later visitors. The plants’ habit of filling in shaded spaces — along with the way its thimble-sized, bell-shaped flowers nod back and forth at the end of thin stems — can make it a challenge to photograph, but I did manage to convince quite a few to stand still for the camera. I try to make sure that the green dots at the bottom of the bells are in focus; if they are, then the rest of the flower is usually in focus too.
According to Wikipedia, the Spring Snowflake “is native to central and southern Europe from Belgium to Ukraine. It is considered naturalized in north-western Europe, including Great Britain and parts of Scandinavia, and in the US states of Georgia and Florida” — which means, in effect, that the plant has managed to establish itself so well and for so long in these two southeastern states that its presence is nearly indistinguishable from a plant that was native to the region.
I have mostly seen them at Oakland (though occasionally see smaller batches in yards or in wilder spaces) where I like to imagine that they were planted around the time of the cemetery’s founding (in the 1850s) — but that’s probably fanciful. To be fair, though, I’ve been aware of them in the same several spaces for about ten years, and they’re always robust, filling the sections they occupy with dense presentations of flowers and swordlike leaves, while also spilling around the edges of any structures trying for containment. The shape of the flower — a bell — perhaps fits as a memorial metaphor, with white suggesting purity, and its early bloom time reflecting the cycles of life and spring renewal that’s common to plantings selected for garden cemeteries.
Thanks for taking a look!
