Snowbell, snowberry, snowflake. Snowball bush, snow gum, snow drops. Snow-in-summer, snow-in-the-jungle, snow-on-the-mountain.

With such abundant snowfall in our northern climes, you might ask yourself what on earth gardeners could have been thinking to want to reminisce about winter’s snow in the sweet warmth of spring, just as the promise of more amicable weather is dawning. Or worse yet, why revisit those thoughts in the height of summer when the heat drenches our senses and makes us believe that winter was a cruel dream? What could they have been thinking, indeed, you ask yourself as you watch 6-foot snowbanks slowly shrink under March’s high sun or her temperamental rains.

Or maybe, just maybe, you’re one of those hardy folks who hasn’t quite had your fill. Maybe you stand amid a wild March flurry and, at the top of your lungs, urge Mother Nature to bring on the lovely weather. You howl into the wind and it howls back, whipping your hair about, shrouding your face in a delicate mask of tiny snowflakes. But the mask doesn’t hide the smile on your face – let out the lion, you say, you’re not interested in a meek lamb.

The snow – snow so saturated with dampness that the empty tracks in your wake glow with an unearthly crystalline blue – tends to bring out the best and worst in us. Especially in March. The promise of spring today, arctic white tomorrow.

If around this time of year you begin to feel a bit awkward about your affection toward snowy weather, fear not. Your enduring constitution, your pleasant reception of the snow is a reflection of other natural things, things that stoically survive the winter unnoticed until the world lightens up, warms up and arises from its deep slumber. I speak of seeds, of course – those tiny, single-serving packets of life that are nearly ready to waken from their winter’s rest.

Over time, seeds have smartly learned to adapt to nature’s bone-chilling winter weather and unreliable transitions to spring. Seeds actually can respond quite favorably to the low temperatures of winter and lengthy, wet spring weather.

Think for a moment of all the times you purchased seeds and instructions on the back of the packet advise you to chill the seed before sowing. What is the purpose of chilling seed? Simply put, freezing the seed for several weeks to several months mimics winter’s weather. Some seeds need to be pre-chilled or “stratified” before they are able to germinate.

Many seeds will not germinate until they have been exposed to a lengthy period of low temperatures. The duration and exact temperature can be highly specific to the variety. The requirement for a prolonged state of chilling during dormancy has an important function in nature – it prevents seeds from premature germination in the occasional balmy weather of fall or in the tempting January thaw.

Like people and animals, seeds protect themselves with winter wear, if you will. Their garb protects them from the elements, just like your insulated jacket protects you from the wind and cold. All seeds have an outer protective layer called the seed coat. When you boil or bake beans, it’s easy to see the translucent seed coat shed in the cooking process. Seed coats are a protective mechanism during trying weather, but when it comes time for germination, the seed coat must relinquish its duties.

Breaking through the seed coat on some types of seed is accomplished simply through water absorption. Other seeds are more resistant. Morning glory seed or false indigo seed, for example, have extremely hard seed coats. Breaking through the coat is accomplished by soaking the seed in room temperature water for a few days, or, better still, through a procedure called scarification. To scarify seed is to nick the seed coat with a knife or file until the healthy, white inner flesh is slightly revealed. Physically breaking through that tough outer coating allows water to penetrate to the living organism inside. Germination is greatly enhanced.

As the snow melts, giving way to endless depths of mud (How badly did you say you wished the snow would go away?), rejoice in the fact that seeds in nature will soon break through their weather-induced dormancy.

And it will be the weather that frees them from their slumber. Tiny little leaves will poke through the soil. Are they friend or foe, you’ll ask. Weed or offspring of our own garden plants? Only time – along with more weather – will tell.

Diana George Chapin is the NEWS garden columnist. Send horticulture questions to Gardening Questions, RR1, Box 2120, Montville 04941, or e-mail them to dianagc@ctel.net. Selected questions will be answered in future columns. Include name, address and telephone number.