That you loyal readers are sick of my discourses on crocus. But, I still find them entrancing especially the white ones gleaming like chips of pure, thin marble in the new green grass. Only not like marble, but like white feathers or snow, a certain softness in the light and the breeze.
But, it is clear, the crocus to survive need to be in the hard packed earth of the pasture and the hayfield. The recently turned (all of five or six years ago) earth of the daylily bed is a sure death by rodents. The best, surviving crocus are those at the edges of the bed. Clearly, compacted ground doesn’t bother them in the slightest, which makes sense given their point of origin.