Spring Snowflakes (Leucojum vernum)
Although it is the first week of March, it is still deep winter here in Brooklyn…but the days are starting to grow longer and there is a certain fresh new quality to the sunlight. The birds in the backyard are getting feistier as they stake out territories & mates. Also, this year, like every year, the squirrels have eaten all of the Christmas lights (which they do as their winter provisions run out). Nature is taking a deep breath as it prepares for the coming spring (although I would hardly be surprised if there are a few more blizzards in the hopper this year).
My old enemies have at least survived the killing snows and ice
Every year at this time I begin looking around desperately for the first blossoms and blooms of the coming spring…and every year there is nothing for many more weeks (or months). The plants are not fooled and know to keep underground until the season is warmer, but that doesn’t stop me from thinking about the first flowers and trees to bloom. In years past I have blogged about crocuses, redbuds, hellebores, and primroses. To start out my garden topic for 2014, I will blog about a tiny inconspicuous flower I have not yet tried to grow, the spring snowflake (Leucojum vernum).
Spring snowflakes originally come from central and southern Europe. Their natural range starts in the Pyrenees and stretches east to Romania and Russia. Spring snowflakes sprout in March about a week or two after snowdrops (which are unrelated, despite the common name). They grow 15-20 cm tall (6-8 in) tall and sport a lovely white bell-shaped flowers which have tiny green or yellow spots at the end of each tepal. Spring snowflakes can naturalize in great drifts–which makes them popular to gardeners and they have been brought from Europe to other similar temperate regions (like the east coast of America).
Drifts of spring snowflakes
In the wild, however they live in deep fairytale forests of Germany and central Europe where the wistful beauty of the tiny bells has given them a place in art and folklore. Although the flowers are tiny and fragile, they contain the highly toxic alkaloids lycorine and galantamine—so they are not exactly unprotected among the witches, wild boars, and mad princes of their native range. I can hardly wait for the crucial juncture when actual spring snowflakes are replaced by the botanical variety! I hope you will join me in keeping your eyes on the ground as the winter slowly loosens its grip.
ferrebeekeeper 
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March 5, 2014 at 2:27 AM
monarda
I am so glad you wrote about these little known bulbs. I have them in my north-facing backyard in Brooklyn! They seem to love it and have multiplied greatly in the several decades since I bought them. I had read about them in a book called The Fragrant Year, whose contents I virtually memorized, and sent for a hundred bulbs from England, originally. In those days I was a member of the Rock Garden Society, which is how I found the place that sold them, Avon Bulbs. You don’t see them that much in US gardens, Avon bulbs no longer ships to the US, and the usual places don’t seem to sell them.
They are somewhat fragrant — nothing seems very fragrant in my yard, which is like a wind tunnel. But delightful brought indoors. The flowers are more showy that those of snowdrops, though those are nice, too. And they look great in a little bouquet together, though it is hard to bring oneself to cut them. This winter has been so cold and snowy, I can’t wait for them to start blooming.
These very early Spring Snowflakes. Leucojum vernum, are not the same as the Summer Snowflake, Leucojum aestivum. I bought these, too, and I was very sorry, as they seem to be the wrong kind, with tiny insignificant flowers lots and lots of tall leaves that spread and spread. I pull them up whenever I see them, but they seem impossible to get rid of. One must be vigilant. There is a right kind, called Gravetye Beauty that is showier, but it more for naturalizing than for a small postage stamp like mine. Besides, it blooms in late spring, when there are tons of other things to choose from.
Another flower that likes my yard and blooms at the same time as the snowflakes is the little yellow aconite. My favorite of the winter bloomers is the grand Crocus imperatii, though. This treasure blooms in January if conditions are right. It hangs in there year after year but doesn’t spread. I am going to have to replace, this since we had work done in our yard last summer and they were probably displaced.
A nice thing about the snowflakes and aconites is their long season of bloom in the weeks before the daffodils.
March 6, 2014 at 6:14 PM
Wayne
Thank you for the detailed post…I think I have the same sort of garden in Brooklyn as you (which is a big heap of old snow and ice right now), so the specific information about plants is wonderful. I would LOVE to have yellow aconite (I am a big fan of wolfsbane & monkshood) but I am afraid of how poisonous it is and I don’t even know where to get it. Additionally I appreciate the warning about summer snowflakes. Speaking of summer flowers, have you ever planted rainflowers in Brooklyn? I always want to try them out.
I can’t wait till both our gardens finally get started in a few weeks!
April 6, 2014 at 2:39 PM
monarda
My spring leucojum are in their glory, prompting me to check back here, in case you look at your old posts: I wanted to say that I see McClure and Zimmerman is carrying the Spring Snowflakes this year, for a not unreasonable price, after a long hiatus. It would be money well invested and I guarantee that if they are happy they will spread. They also have the aconite — two kinds, properly called, Eranthis hyemalis and Eranthis cilicica. Do not worry about the poisonous part. That is the defense these helpless things have against pests and predators. I expect you may be thinking of Monkshood (Wolfsbane), a formidable perennial of late summer, which is relatively more deadly — so I understand. Both these plants are members of the huge ranunculus (buttercup) family, which includes columbines and the beautiful clematis vines, and all are poison to some degree, including the common buttercup.
Incidentally, while visiting Japan I noticed that they had an entire TV program dedicated to the buttercup family, including a demonstration of watercolor painting of notable members of the family, with a round table discussion afterward. Talk about pro-social programing.