How to plant a stunning snowdrop display for spring

Plant your bulbs now for an uplifting sight to dispel the winter gloom come January

You’ve still got time to lighten up next spring by planting some snowdrop bulbs, which can be planted up until the end of November. You’ll find a limited range of them in garden centres and on commercial bulb websites. 
If the bulbs look dry and withered – after being in a garden centre, for instance – rehydrate them for two to three hours in slightly warm water before planting. Those ordered from online bulb growers (see list below) should arrive in perfect condition. 
The rule of thumb for spring-flowering bulbs is to plant them twice the depth of the bulb, and you’re best to space snowdrops a couple of inches apart so that they make more impact on the eye. Here are some varieties to consider. 
Galanthus nivalis is our most commonly grown snowdrop, and the name translates as “white milk flower”. This smaller snowdrop is often seen in woodland and in churchyards. G. nivalis used to be considered a British native, but this dainty species actually comes from the woods and mountains of Central Europe in an area stretching from the Pyrenees in the west to Ukraine in the east; hence, it’s variable and it prefers cool growing conditions and semi-shade. Use it to line a shady path, or close to shrubs and trees in cooler areas of the garden. G. nivalis tolerates all soil types. 
G. nivalis bulbs are small, the leaves are grassy, and the flowers are short in stature, usually up to four to six inches (10-15cm). You’ll find single-flowered forms and a double called ‘Flore-Pleno’. Double snowdrops always appear open, even in dull weather, but the singles look pristine and elegant. The choice is yours, although I grow and admire both. Their flowers have always been associated with the Virgin Mary and Candlemas Day, held on February 2. Walsingham Abbey in north Norfolk and Welford Park in Berkshire have spectacular numbers, and their original colonies of G. nivalis may be centuries old. The bulbs were used medicinally by monks and apothecaries, although snowdrop bulbs are toxic. That’s good news for the gardener, because squirrels, voles and mice shun them, preferring crocuses and tulips instead.
Galanthus elwesii is a completely different beast. It’s a bolder snowdrop with blunt-tipped glaucous leaves and single, bulbous flowers boldly marked in dark green. Think old-fashioned light bulb and you’re in the right ballpark. It’s taller, sometimes stretching up to a foot in height (30cm), and it will often flower in January. The paler leaves indicate a preference for a brighter position, and G. elwesii doesn’t seem to mind a summer bake, because it’s found in Turkey, Greece and the Aegean Islands. It arrived here in the 1870s, after Henry Elwes of Colesbourne Park in Gloucestershire discovered it, and Colesbourne is another great place to see snowdrops. Mine do well under roses, and the snowdrop foliage has plenty of time to die down before the roses get into their stride.
You may also find bulbs of two green-leaved snowdrops that are very mixed up in the bulb trade. These have soft, vivid-green leaves, almost waxy to the touch, and tiny bright-white flowers with petals that open slightly. G. woronowii, native to the Black Sea coast area of Russia, and G. ikariae, from the Aegean Island of Ikaria, are both trickier to grow for me. I have to find them warmer positions and, even then, there is often more leaf than flower. They need good drainage and my best clumps are close to shrubs. They always flower better after a sunny, hot summer – not something we have enjoyed this year.
If you miss the boat with dry bulbs, you’ll find potted plants labelled G. woronowii in garden centres in January or February. 
The fourth common snowdrop, Galanthus plicatus, is different again, and the species name means pleated, because the wide grey-green leaves have a small tuck or pleat at the point where the underside of the leaf and the bulb meet. The wide leaves have a paler zone along the midrib, and the rounded flowers have seersucker textured petals. This has been grown in British gardens since the 16th century, although bulbs were brought back in numbers in the mid 19th century by soldiers returning from the Crimean War.
Galanthus plicatus prefers cool shade in my own garden, and it’s invaluable because it produces fertile pollen. This allows it to set seed and hybridise with other snowdrops. 
Snowdrop flowers attract early bees and this results in hybrid seedlings, both in the wild and in garden populations. These seedlings have extra vigour and can be easier to grow, and they are given names in single quotes, such as ‘Lady Beatrix Stanley’. Most are only available as potted plants, however, and some are pricey.