Snowdrop Anxiety.

To the best of my knowledge psychiatrists have yet to place this condition within the spectrum of mental ill health but there is little doubt that it is a cause of great tension, stress even suffering for those with a more than normal interest in growing snowdrops and is particularly prevalent at this time of the year as the snowdrops are emerging from dormancy and breaking the surface of the soil. It is an annually recurring condition though anticipation and preparation do little to assuage the worries of the snowdrop grower and the suffering receives little or no sympathy from those who do not share this interest though recent years has seen the development of support groups on some social media platforms and it is obvious from Facebook, for example, that it is an international problem as I have noted groups based in the U.K, Germany, North America and even far-away New Zealand.

One of those snowdrops which appears early in the season and brings relief to the Snowdrop Anxiety sufferer
– Galanthus ‘Faringdon Double’

The essence of the stress/anxiety centres on a worry that those special flowers which the enthusiasts love so dearly may not appear in the current season, that they may have succumbed to pest or disease – and these are many: narcissus root fly, swift moth larvae, bacterial fungus, Snowdrop grey mould -Botrytis galanthina – or the dreaded Stagonospora curtisii, a death-knell fungus which strikes panic and despair in the heart of the snowdrop grower. It is a pastime rife with worry and it really is no surprise that many enthusiasts live life on a knife edge of anxiety until their special ones have reappeared and flowered once again.

Another of the early flowerers which serves to keep spirits up while one waits for the emergence of some of the more special ones
– Galanthus elwesii ‘Barnes’

These “special ones” give rise to the highest levels of anxiety; some because of their expense – individual bulbs of newly introduced varieties can cost from €50 – €100 or more – while one would be frightfully upset to lose a kind gift from a generous fellow enthusiast. This all leads to a practice at this time of year which I call “snout-spotting”, that daily patrol of the garden hoping to see the tips of the new growths from the bulbs appear over ground and sufferers are even known on occasion – or more frequently, depending on the severity of their condition – to engage in a scraping away of the soil in hopes of finding bulb growth a little deeper down – any growth is a source of great relief and the most welcome of sights for the sufferer.

Well marked – a single bulb of G. ‘Skyward’

G. ‘Aunt Agnes’ : 3 last year, 6 this year! Yippee!

G. ‘Barnhill’ – very special and eagerly watched.

Some of those examined so very carefully today!

I must “come out” and admit that I am one of these snout-searchers, that I am presently going through the most difficult time of my gardening year and every day is fraught with worry but also, thankfully, relieved by the reappearance of treasured old favourites, the bounteous mementoes of generous friends. With further research a cure may be found but I hope not.

Some old reliable varieties – here it is Galanthus ‘Benton Magnet’ – give reassurance that all will be well.