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The spring snowdrops

Published: 21 Mar. 2025, 00:05 Updated: 23 Mar. 2025, 14:23

Oh Kyung-ah

The author is a garden designer and CEO of OhGardens.

Gardening is sometimes a planned endeavor, but more often than not, it begins on a whim — kneeling suddenly to tend to a neglected patch. The other day, as I was passing by, I noticed a tulip bulb left exposed in the flower bed, one that should have been buried last fall. What started as a simple task of planting the bulb became a two-hour session of clearing fallen leaves and trimming the withered stalks of reeds, asters and dill.

Once I had finished, I spotted delicate white blossoms — snowdrops. These flowers grow no taller than 10 centimeters, making them easy to overlook in an unkempt flower bed. Yet, just like last year, they had returned, steadfast in their appearance. Their name comes from their resemblance to snowflakes, but their scientific name is Galanthus. Native to temperate regions of Western Europe, there are 22 species of these small, resilient blooms.

A few years ago, I had longed for snowdrops so much that I specifically requested a shipment of bulbs from the Netherlands, along with my tulip order. Worried they might not withstand Korea’s climate, I planted just 20 bulbs. Half of them survived, and for several years now, they have heralded the arrival of spring.

Snowdrops are spring flowers native to temperate regions of Western Europe. [OH KYUNG-AH]

But nothing in life comes without trials. Just as a sudden rise in temperature had me thinking spring was here, reality proved otherwise. That evening, after my gardening chores were done and I was preparing dinner with a sense of accomplishment, snowflakes began to fall. My mind immediately went to the frail white petals I had seen earlier — would they survive the cold?

Yet, I know the resilience of plants. Crocuses, snowdrops and adonis flowers bloom early in the season, enduring the late snow without faltering. I have seen it before.

An old Western saying is that March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. Spring, for now, is still roaring like a lion. But just as the delicate snowdrops withstand the snow, I know the season will soften, quieting into warmth. Until then, the flowers — and all of us — must simply hold on.

Translated using generative AI and edited by Korea JoongAng Daily staff.