Snowdrop Season

Blurring between winter and spring, day-to-day tiptoeing forward then backward like some sort of unpredictable dance, our weather whiplash is offset with a rewarding ritual. Snowdrop season is a slightly surreal jumpstart to the growing season.

Emerging from soil still too cold for *most* germination, sometimes even poking up through remnants of snow, the Common Snowdrop (Galanthus nivalis) is nature’s promise that the season of blossoms is upon us. Soon…

There’s something reassuring about these bulbous perennials. Brave and resilient. Delicate to the eye but vigorous. And invigorating!

Sometimes the insights of poetry whisper wisest.

I did not expect to survive,
earth suppressing me. I didn’t expect
to waken again, to feel
in damp earth my body
able to respond again, remembering
after so long how to open again
in the cold light
of earliest spring–

[…]

in the raw wind of the new world. — Louise Glück, “Snowdrops”

—//—

Lone Flower, hemmed in with snows and white as they
But hardier far, once more I see thee bend
Thy forehead, as if fearful to offend,
Like an unbidden guest. Though day by day,
Storms, sallying from the mountain-tops, waylay
The rising sun, and on the plains descend;
Yet art thou welcome, welcome as a friend
Whose zeal outruns his promise! — William Wordsworth, “To A Snowdrop”

Not altogether unlike poppies, snowdrop season conjoins the delicate and the bold.

Snowdrop Season, haiku

Hail, fierce forerunner
of buds, blossoms, and bounty.
Swing, siren, sing.