Into the Drift: Ode to a Crocus

Last fall, seven months into the coronavirus pandemic and with a harsh winter looming, I pinned my hopes on spring. I do this every year, but 2020 brought with it, for obvious reasons, an especially intense sense of urgency. Despite limited supplies of fall selections, I ordered whatever I could manage and waited every day for the mail to arrive. When it did, I promptly planted my bulbs (and hopes) in the dirt.

A bee hovers above a crocus in
my Toronto front-yard garden

My first choice for bulbs is snow crocus. I love them. These flowers are among the earliest bloomers (preceded only by snowdrops). Snow crocus appear in early spring and sometimes even in late winter. They are smaller than the showy giant crocus, but I find them to be far more robust; they are hardy in harsh conditions and are happy to bloom abundantly, painting the garden in a spectrum of colours.

The diminutive snow crocus
is garden royalty

Crocus have the biggest impact when planted in drifts.  Drifts are large clusters of flowers that imitate what we might see in nature. Helpfully, crocus readily naturalize. That means they will multiply and spread. If you put six bulbs in the ground this fall, in a few years you will have a much larger collection. After years of adding crocus bulbs and allowing them to flourish, I am finally seeing the drifts I long for.

Crocus drift leaning toward
the light

To me, crocus are more than just a garden flower. They are a symbol of transformation. In the garden, the transformation is one from barren winter to fertile spring. On a personal level, the first crocus nudges me to transform myself: the hibernating bear I become every winter is awakened and ready to live. This power of transformation, in the garden and individually, inspired me to write an ode to a crocus.

Into the Drift

My body aches for summer’s warmth

My eyes are starved for the blush of colour

My idle thoughts are an anchor unformed

My spirit grows darker and duller

Embers of longing spark my depleted vitality

I am impatient for beauty unblemished    

Restless, I wait for spring’s soil-splitting shift

Petals emerge to declare a glowing reality

Melancholy melts, desire is replenished

Unburdened, my heart skips into the drift

I find you in the woodlands and in the meadows

I seek your hints of yellow, white, and mauve

Earthly offerings worthy of departed pharaohs

Purple chalices of perfume amid the groves

You are the first to dream of splendour 

Blooms cascade from your crown of corms

Empress of the garden, you are a grand gift  

Exquisite bouquets fill my senses tender

Each breath sustains and transforms

Unmoored, I float into the drift

The bees waltz among your bold clusters

Sipping nectar from your cups

Insect choirs serenade your exalted luster

I join them with my voice raised up

You are the season’s greatest pageant

Nature’s incantation, her finest opus

Your pastel palettes, hues and tints

Paint vistas of brilliance unimagined

Brushing enchantment upon the crocus

Bewitched, I am drawn into the drift

Cream Beauty Crocus

Happy gardening!