There is something so fiercely brave about the slender strength of the dependable snowdrop. No matter what the weather brings this flower remains bowing but unbowed. It confidently shakes itself free from the snowflakes, sturdily stands up to the winds, and resolutely ignores the raindrops.
The snowdrop is a modest flower. It does not shine a brilliant white, nor does it bear the sunny reflection of the surrounding aconites and narcissi, nor does it seek to draw near to the aristocratic ivory of the lily of the valley: it is its very own cool shade of serene white.
The leaves and stem hold the promise of the green of the heart of spring, holding out in all weathers until that spring eventually comes, an expression of hope.
Each snowdrop in the clump has its own conscious role to play in the whole picture; they work together in just the right spacing, no more and no less than needed, each one as important to the big picture as any other, and no one bloom asking for or taking more attention than any other. The perfect community.