WHEN does spring send out its advance party, advising us the days will soon be warmer and brighter again? Is it when the mistle thrush in the bare poplars casts his tuneful phrases across woodland and water, as we break into the New Year? Or when the scillas and daffodils push tentatively out of the earth?
For Susanna Bott, chatelaine of Benington Lordship, the promise of spring arrives with the downy clouds of February snowdrops that cover the ground around the remains of a Norman castle and its next-door church, close to her early-18th-century home.
‘On a sunny day in February, the scent of honey wafting from the massed wild snowdrops and the sight of the big, sleepy bumble- bees that land on them, weighing the flowers down, is a key moment. Snowdrops are so important for pollinators, at a time of year when there is little else available,’ says Mrs Bott. ‘But, on a warm day, the honey smell from the snowdrops reminds me of the pleasure and simplicity of Nature, as well as the change of seasons; it makes me feel grounded.’
The British Isles are blessed with many areas of naturalised snowdrops: they erupt to illuminate late winter in parks and gardens, alongside rivers and streams and carpeting deciduous woodlands. Many such places are on flat ground, creating pleasing white carpets in February, often with a path snaking through, the better to wander among the demurely nodding blooms. However, what marks out the snowdrop displays at Benington Lordship is the unique setting, enhanced by various human interventions across many centuries.
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der January 11, 2023-Ausgabe von Country Life UK.
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