Daffodils are the happiest flowers, early spring bloomers, and reminders of warmer days.
My love story with daffodils goes back to my teens and hometown. Towards the end of each winter, sometime in late January or February, daffodils used to appear in the buckets of the street vendors. There was, and still is, a particular kind, fragrant and more delicate. The name we use is “narcissus.” Although my Google search failed to provide a more specific scientific classification, I found the photos of my “narcissus” which you can smell from far away.
For a while, I lived in a city where the narcissus grew wild in the mountains and where you could have bought them in bulk, really like a shopping cart full of them. Then during my spring in Scotland, I discovered that there are many different varieties of daffodils, each as beautiful as my narcissus. The big, bright, yellow flowers were everywhere in the dark, gloomy days of March in Edinburgh. They made me smile, and fell in love with the city as well as themselves all over again.
Last spring, daffodils popped up in masses in McCarren Park, Williamsburg, New York. I even spotted a variety similar to my narcissus, although not fragrant. For a couple of weeks, my daily walks with the puppy took a route around the daffodils, I observed them daily, and secretly picked up a couple of stalks and brought them back home.
I tried to grow them in different gardens and regions. I planted the bulbs and waited patiently for flowers to appear the following year. I achieved the biggest success last year when I could harvest “one” stalk of my narcissus. Unfortunately, for a reason unknown to me now, I failed to take a picture of my one and only stalk.
Daffodils are humble and joyous but, unfortunately, short-lived. Although their flowers shine like a sun, you may easily fail to notice them. So next time, if you spot a yellow glimpse while walking, stop and see the daffodils.
