I rarely resist bending down to look inside a double snowdrop. Like most aspects of gardening, it’s hard on the knees, but uplifting to the soul.
The hurried passerby thinks all snowdrops are the same. It’s only by sparing those few extra moments to look closer that we start to appreciate nature’s subtleties.
Susan Rushton 
So often what is real seems unreal. This snowdrop, for instance. And, yes, I can see that knees would complain about getting a closer look at this, but the soul requires it. What wonder.
I love ‘the soul requires it’.
A closer look at nature is always worthwhile. Sometimes I even lie on the ground to get pictures of tiny beauties that would be otherwise missed.
I often think about lying down, but I don’t think I’ve done it – though I’ve left many a garden with muddy knees. Do you get much response from people who see you lying on the ground?
We live on a country road, and I mostly do my lying down in my yard. So not many people see me 😉
Looking up the skirts of my snowdrops is the very best thing about this time of the year.
Snowdrops can expect no privacy with us around!
I was talking to a friend just this week about the ways the Chelsea Physic Garden display snowdrops so that you don’t have to grovel. However, more normally I am on the ground with wet knees!
I’ve seen pictures of their display, but have never timed a visit well enough to see them in real life.
I just discovered your blog, and your photography is absolutely stunning. Thanks for sharing your art and words with the world!
You’re very welcome – I’m glad you like it.
i LOVE snowdrops – everything about them – they can bloom in the snow, they are fragile looking and dainty, and they are white! Have never seen these dounle ones!