Don't get lulled by false' spring

GARDENING

I was with a group of nursery people last weekend as we gathered to participate in the memorial service to a fellow plant grower from the past.

Talk turned to the same sorts of things nurserymen have always talked about - the weather mainly.

We all agreed the curse of the nurseryman is not frost or rain or drought - it is wind.

Until you have grown plants and owned valuable glasshouses, you do not know what wind anxiety is.

It was a gloriously fine morning and, as we gathered in Queen Elizabeth Park, the train shuttled around the island and the growing season was eagerly discussed.

One thing we all agreed on - this spell of fine weather is designed to lull people into a false sense of timing and is a "false spring".

But what a warm spell it is and what a set of effects it is having on some plants.

I have had some bulbs flowering a full month ahead of usual bloom time, and the peonies I planted a fortnight ago have popped new growing tips out of the soil.

I am pleased enough to see them but I would rather they waited a few more weeks before coming up through the soil.

Other plants are having a bumper year too and I am especially pleased with a big clump of the common English snowdrop, Galanthus nivalis.

I confess I was slow to like these plants and they were slow to like me. I have friends who are galanthophiles (a flash way of saying they collect snowdrops) and I have always thought it an odd passion, as all snowdrops look essentially the same.

Each species and variety has a variation on the theme of two whorls of three petal-like tepals, the outer ones being curved more and about twice the length of the inner ones, which are usually tipped with green (or sometimes yellow) markings just above the end of the tepal.

I have grown the common form for 30 years in different gardens, but it has never really done all that well for me and, although I like the flowers well enough, they do not excite me.

But this year I am excited, as the clump in the back border has been steadily increasing and now bears more than 30 flowers at once.

The leaves pushed through the soil in early July and now their bright white flowers shine across the garden.

This was small clump when planted a few years ago, but it has grown quickly. This is a valuable asset as snowdrops, like many small bulbs, are seen at their best advantage when planted en masse.

Ours are in a perfect position, being in full sun in a bed which has slightly heavy soil but does not dry out.

I have a little plot of another variety, a double variety called Lavinia, which a galanthophile friend gave me when our daughter passed away.

It does not grow in such a favourable position, being in lighter soil, slightly shaded and also facing south.

This clump is six years old but has not increased very much (the doubles are not as vigorous) but I will move it so it is closer to the one that is thriving.

Unlike some bulbs, snowdrops like moving while they are still growing ("in the green" we call it) so I will move them as soon as they have finished flowering.

My best clump of Galanthus nivalis, grows in the shade of a couple of winter roses, Hellebores, another group of plants I was rather slow to warm to.

I have always been a little lukewarm about them as they can have less-than-exciting flowers, and their foliage can be a bit of a trial over the autumn and winter period.

But I have become a bit of a convert over the past few years, as a wider range of colours has become more commonly available, and a wonderful range of double forms has also come on the market.

Among the single types I like the pure white form of H. niger called White Magic, which is an evergreen plant that grows about 50cm high, clumping to about the same size in diameter.

It bears pure white flowers with a green eye on thick, tall stems that push the flower well above the leaves. As the flowers age, they sometimes turn pink.

I grow a lovely deep red form, one of many different strains that are around.

I think the only way to properly assess one of these it to see them in flower as they are raised from seed and, although they will grow to within a range, they will also be quite variable.

One deep strain I saw had flowers that ranged through claret (the colour I prefer) through to almost dark slate-grey.

It means a few trips to the nursery as the plants sell as soon as they flower, but it is worth it to get the form you want.

Perhaps the most attractive, but also the most variable, of the single forms are the light coloured ones that are splotched with a deeper contrasting colour.

The spots vary in colour, although they are mainly maroon, and in the extent of the coverage so it pays to check them when they are in flower.

The double forms come in the same colour range as the singles, and are largely symmetrical flowers with clean colours.

We grow a couple of different colours, but there is a great range available, including plain colours and those with contrasting colour.

These are hardy plants, so even if they are tricked into flowering a little early by the false spring, they will thrive no matter what the weather throws at them.