And that's why they call them . . .

. . . snowdrops. Just peeking out from the icy package delivered by this week's snow storm are little green clumps of leaves and stems topped with tiny white buds.  However, a few more hours of driving, spitting, spraying snow, and they will be buried.

But in the meantime, this ice-dusted flower--released but not yet open--holds the promise of milder days ahead . . .

. . . as does this scruffy salad of snowdrop greenery. How great to see this chilly foliage poking up on the snow-covered hillside behind the house, particularly on a day when six more inches of snow is forecast: a gentle reminder that spring is on its way. Eventually.

Snowdrop squalls

Now that we can almost reach out and touch our average last frost date up in this part of Zone 6, the snow season should be over. A happy exception: this little flurry of snowdrops that blankets a portion of my back hill. Each of these clumps started out as a single bulb about a decade ago.



The white flowers catch the light and practically sparkle on a sunny day.



In order for the foliage to ripen after blooming, I allow the grass around them (and later appearing bluebells) to grow undisturbed until the fourth of July. Then the world's smallest meadow is mowed.