The Fair Maid of February

There are snowdrops popping up everywhere at the moment and we quite often overlook this tiny, fragile herald of Spring. But it's an interesting little flower.

It wasn't originally a native of the UK - it was brought here from the mountainous Alpine regions, possibly by monks. An old 19th century English floral calendar describes it thus: 

‘The snowdrop, in purest white arraie, 

 First rears her hedde on Candlemas daie. 

While the Crocus hastens to the shrine 

Of Primrose lone on St Valentine.’ 

The fact that the snowdrops were up in January and crocuses have already emerged is a possible indicator of how the seasons have shifted in 200 years.

One ancient German folktale says that, at the beginning of all things, the Snow sought to borrow a colour. The flowers were much admired by all the elements but they guarded their colours jealously. So they refused Snow's plea. But the humble snowdrop took pity on the Snow and offered up their colour. The Snow gratefully accepted and became white forevermore. In its gratitude, the Snow permitted the little pearly flowers the protection to appear in winter. 

Snowdrops do have some medicinal properties and the bulb of Galanthus nivalis contains the alkaloid galantamine – approved for use in the management of Alzheimer's disease in over 70 countries worldwide, including the UK.

The ‘Snow Lily’ or ‘Fair Maid of February’ favours shady areas such as woodlands and is also found  clustering in churchyards. Perhaps this is the reason for some darker lore - that the snowdrop is an omen of death. In Victorian superstition, it was said that you must never bring the snowdrop into the house because it will bring ill-fortune and even cause death to someone in the family within the year. Another old English superstition dictates that, by bringing in a snowdrop, milk will  sour and eggs will spoil.

Photo: Janice Staines
 

But rather than see it as a bringer of bad things, I prefer to see it as a sign of hope and renewal. And I'll conclude with the final lines of Scottish poet George Wilson's The Origin of the Snowdrop:

'And thus the snowdrop, like the bow 

That spans the cloudy sky, 

Becomes a symbol whence we know 

That brighter days are nigh.'