Monday, 19 January 2009

first sightings

Spotted my first snowdrop yesterday between hail blizzards up in the Howgills. Always a fabulous sight - they're so sturdy for such little plants (so much more so than crocii), and of course the first squeak of spring, more tentative than the daff. What adds to their value is their short life when cut. Like something out of a fairy tale. You know the moral on possession.

I was in the florist on Saturday chatting about origins of his flowers and he told me he gets his snowdrops from a woman who goes out and about the locality. Gardens were mentioned in a vague sort of way. People love them apparently, pay loads for a small bunch yet they only last a few days before they wilt. While I'm lover of half dead flowers in my vase (honestly - the brown tips of petals is strangely comforting), the thought of floppy snowdrops when their embedded ones are so pert and fleshy ... well, it's The Little Mermaid all over again, isn't it?

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