My son (then 10) helped me plant these crocuses back in 2004—our first Fall in this house. I worked my way through the flower beds digging small holes here and there. He loaded his hoodie pocket with corms, then followed me around like Johnny Crocus-seed, scattering kernels of future beauty as he went. (Every once in a while I can get him interested in a little task like that.)
We planted over 200 corms all together, of several varieties purchased at local Box-Marts. But as Alan Armitage so aptly puts it, “A crocus is a crocus is a crocus.” Most of them look pretty similar.
Still, for those who like to know these things, here’s what we planted. About a hundred of them were C. tommasinianus ‘Ruby Giant’.
Don’t be fooled by her name: there’s nothing large, nor even red, about this Ruby. All “giant” means is that she is bigger than other tommasinianus crocuses. But what she lacks in size she makes up in vigor. Tommies are supposed to be the fastest multiplying variety of crocus. They’ve certainly spread nicely here. They’re also known as “snow crocuses,” which tells you something about how early they bloom.
Another 50 were C. vernus ‘Pickwick,’ a slightly larger Dutch crocus that has silvery-lavender flowers with darker purple stripes. The vernus varieties are supposed to be among the later-blooming crocuses, and indeed this is the only one open in my gardens so far:
Then there were 80 of unnamed mixed species: purple, white, yellow, and striped.
I’m pretty sure that not all those original crocuses survived (Mr. Squirrel undoubtedly made off with his cut), but those that remain have formed nice little patches here and there. I’ve read that they don’t like wet feet, and it’s true that my happiest ones are in raised, well-drained areas.
Thus begins spring. It’s not much so far, but I’ll take it! Besides, big things grow from small beginnings, right? There’s a whole lot of hope packed into those teeny, tiny flowers.
