Gardeners everywhere are in limbo because of the wintry weather., and yesterday I went on the prowl (like a restless animal) for more seed potatoes and shallots purely to keep my faith and hope alive.

So far I haven’t seen a bumble bee and my own high-altitude garden has been covered in snow for almost two weeks – with hardly a plant visible.

More than 30 of the last 45 days have seen night frosts, so everything is lying low with the exception of the witch hazels (hamamelis). They shine above the snow like beacons.

Yesterday (while on my prowl) I went visiting low-lying, more ambient gardens. In one I saw my first clump of crocus braving the afternoon sunshine among hundreds of tightly shut winter aconites. I almost fell down and worshipped it.

Both are lovers of open situations and both will open in warm sunshine. The crocus forms a goblet and the temperature inside the protective petals can be much higher than outside and this warmth causes nectar to flow – pleasing early bees.

The winter aconite (Eranthis hyemalis) will only open its flowers if the temperature reaches 10C, so it’s vital to give this plant a situation where afternoon sun strikes.

Then the bees can access the pollen and your aconites will set seed. These can be scattered over the ground, once the star-shaped pods rattle, to form colonies.

In most years, small-flowered crocus will appear in January and good forms include those bred from C. chrysanthus and C. sieberi. C. chrysanthus grows widely from Bulgaria to Greece in very dry places.

It can dwindle away in damp British gardens given time. But you could add grit or force early potfuls in a frame. Plant some every year and protect from mice.

Edward Augustus Bowles (1865-1954 ) earned the name ‘The Crocus King’ and he always travelled with a cook’s fork in his trousers in order to prise any treasures spotted. (Not to be recommended today.) Once home, this affluent plant collector hybridised species that would normally never meet. He produced ‘Yellow Hammer’ and ‘Snow Bunting’ among other bird-inspired hybrid crocus.

Later breeders named ‘Cream Beauty’, ‘E. A Bowles’ (a bronze-marked lemon-yellow) and the lobelia-blue ‘Blue Pearl’.

C. sieberi was originally collected from the White Mountains in Crete by the British Consul and sent to Henry Elwes ( 1846-1922). The jauntiest garden form is ‘Tricolor’ a lilac with a yellow and white throat. When you gaze inside it looks as though a farmyard egg has just been cracked inside the lilac flower.

This very tiny crocus bulks up well in a hot spot, is very hardy and it could be perfect underneath a rosemary bush.

If you are lucky enough to visit Crete, the Omalos Plain is the place to head for many crocus. The second flush starts four weeks later and involves larger-flowered crocus bred from Crocus vernus – a European species used to pushing up through alpine meadows. Therefore ‘Dutch crocus’ make ideal bulbs for a lawn because they produce larger flowers and they clump up boldly.

‘Vanguard’ became one of Bowles’s favourites in his later years and it was collected in Russia in 1934. It shimmers in shades of lilac-pink and grey and is more widely available now than it used to be.