Daffodils are my favorite flowers

– Posted in: Narcissus, Plant info

Time to put my money where my heart is

When I was in college, I lived in a third-floor walkup with two fellow students. Whenever anyone shut the front door to the building, all the tenants felt the resulting vibrations. And we subconsciously monitored the sound of footsteps on the stairs, calculating in the back of our minds how likely was the prospect of company. Consequently, my roommates and I looked at each other inquiringly when footsteps going at a dead run did not stop at the second floor but continued up to our landing. Was the stair climber for us, or for our neighbors? Are you expecting anyone?

Our door rapped insistently, and I opened it to face the hugest bunch of flowers I have ever encountered. I don’t mean the individual flowers were huge, but the bouquet itself was so big two hands could barely surround it. On the other side of the bouquet was my fiance, just one month before he was to become my husband. He was breathing hard.

“Here,” he said between gasps for air. “These are for you. . . . They grow in our field. . . . I had wanted . . . to give you some . . . last year, but you went home for the summer before they were blooming.” A car horn honked from the street below. “Oh, that’s my dad. Gotta run. See ya.” He tore down the stairs as fast as he had arrived.
Narcissus poeticus growing at our house
Barely contained in my fully extended fingers were several dozen Narcissus poeticus, in the same genus as the yellow trumpet daffodils I knew from childhood, and yet so different. First of all, they’re fragrant. I have since met up with yellow trumpets that have a faint perfume when I thrust my nose into the trumpet and breathe deeply, but the fragrance of poet’s narcissus is generous enough to carry on a spring breeze. Secondly, the poet’s narcissus doesn’t have a trumpet, but a shallow cup, making the six floral leaves of the perianth much more prominent. Thirdly, the demeanor of the plant is different, nodding gently downward as the mythical Narcissus must have gazed into the mirror-like water. Finally, the color is all different, none of this brash look-at-me yellow, but “petals” of purest white and a green-eyed, red-rimmed cup.

And how can I look at them without thinking of that young lover bounding up the stairs?

So I was greatly surprised several months ago to overhear this conversation between two offspring:

“What’s Mom’s favorite flower?”
“Colchicums, duh.”

Upon reflection, I realized how this grave misconception of their mother’s floral psyche could have occurred. I had been buying colchicums, planting colchicums, keeping records on colchicums, and blogging colchicums. In the case of narcissus, I had, for the most part, merely been dividing and replanting the ones I already had. But while colchicums stimulate my curiosity, narcissus had captured my heart long ago. Yet I had so many of the more common ones around that I took them for granted.

I decided it was time to switch obsessions.

It was time to indulge in some flowers that made me sigh with their exquisite beauty. I still wanted something out of the ordinary, but I wanted to evoke the romantic nostalgia and sweet fragrance of the poet’s narcissus. And I knew exactly where to start shopping.

I had come across David Burdick Daffodils (DBD) while searching online for some other thing that I no longer recall. I soon realized they had an amazing selection of narcissus, but as it was not the time to be ordering I bookmarked the site and went on. It is a testimony to how much the selection impresssed me that I went back looking for that bookmark more than a year later, when I decided my fall garden budget was going to be allocated to choice narcissus not much seen in gardens. The only difficulty would be in limiting myself to something less than one of everything. (And yes, I used a spreadsheet to help me decide.) These are the ones that made the final cut:


Narcissus 'Angel' - photo by Tony James - used with permissionI don’t know where I saw a photograph of ‘Angel,’ but I know it was love at first sight. In the 1990s it was one of the more expensive daffodils–The Daffodil Mart was selling it for $28 for 25 bulbs in 1996. In 1997 I decided expensive or no, I was going to have some–and it was no longer listed in The Daffodil Mart. It was no longer listed anywhere. Eventually I wrote to Becky Heath (the Heaths owned The Daffodil Mart at that time) and she led me to believe that something catastrophic had happened and that it would be many years before it was offered again–if ever. So I saved the 1996 catalog as a memento of my loss, a reminder that it is possible to be too prudent.

And how delighted I was to find it among Mr. Burdick’s offerings! There was no doubt in my mind that it was going on the order form. In the photo, the cup looks pale yellow. However, the Daffodil Mart described it as “very large white/white with small cup that sometimes has a tiny yellow rim” and DBD lists it in the all white page: “Another heavenly pure white, green-eyed flower. . . . has a smaller crinkled cup which opens pale yellow before going white.” You can be sure I will be giving you my own impression.


Narcissus 'Rimmon' - Photo by Anne Nigrelli - used with permission“The purity of white in its petals lasts forever, and the green-eyed white cup has a rim that progresses through shade after shade of yellow until ending golden,” reads the DBD catalog copy. Whereas ‘Angel’s’ cup starts out yellow and fades to white, this one starts out white and becomes progressively more yellow. Also, it is supposed to bloom earlier.

Vernal Prince

Narcissus 'Vernal Prince' photo by Anne Nigrelli - used with permissionAccording to DBD, “Large distinctive pear shaped bulbs produce rounded flowers with overlapping petals of the purest white. The frilled, bowl shaped cup is a drop of crème-de-menthe in the center of a pad of melting butter.”

Malin Head

Narcissus 'Malin Head' - photo by Kirby Fong - used with permissionOnce again, the DBD description: “Without a doubt the most rapid increaser of all the hybrid poeticus types we offer. The slightly reflexed flower form is very similar to Fanad Head’s, but Malin Head has an even more pastel-colored cup. Its wide zone of pale yellow seen upon opening soon washes near-white, retaining just the drop of jade green in the center and the thin coral red rim.”


Those are the lovelies I chose. But that was not all I found in the shipping box. I always make a point of writing down substitutions if I possibly can. True, I am sometimes after one particular plant, and only that one will do. But often I am on a binge, and can say, “If you don’t have double-flowered primrose x, give me another double-flowered primrose in this price range.” Even more often, I have to pare down my order in an agony of indecision, and I put all the “almost-made-its” on the substitution list. When you deal with the smaller growers, they often look at that list and give you something on it, even if they don’t need to substitute. Sometimes they have more on hand than they expected, or they feel the quality of what they are sending you is not up to their standards. On the DBD order form, I had written in the “Preferred Substitutions” space:

If any of the narcissus are sold out, please send another one of equal price that is white with a small cup. No pink cups. Fragrance is a plus.

Mr. Burdick sent me three extra bulbs.


Narcissus 'Achnasheen' - photo by Wells Kneirim - used with permissionTwo of these beauties were included “to make up for small sized ‘Rimmon’ and ‘Angel’ – both victims of Oct. 2005 flood damage,” as the handwritten note on the packing slip explained. On his website, this bulb is tersely noted as a “Prolific bulb producer; great cut flowers. Late Mid Season,” but “Beautiful late small cup – not much fragrance” is appended by hand to the paper stapled to the bulb bag.


Narcissus 'Eland' - photo by George Tarry - used with permission“To try with thanks” was the only explanation given for the inclusion of this bulb. I couldn’t find it listed on the DBD 2006 website, but the typewritten description on the bag said, “The first all-white hybrid to join our list of dependable garden jonquils for the northeast. Mostly two, but sometimes three, rounded and fragrant flowers per stem. The short cup opens with a lemony tone, which soon pales to match the clean color of its petals. Around since 1968, when Grant Mitsch of the U.S.A. introduced it. Precious few have since tried to supercede it.”

I have a lot to look forward to this spring; however, Mr. Burdick’s discomfiture at the size of ‘Angel’ and ‘Rimmon’ leads me to believe that they might not be blooming size this year. None of them have poked through the earth yet, though almost all my other narcissus have emerged at least an inch from the soil, which is still frozen in spots. This does not alarm me, as I am accustomed to relocated daffodils being a bit off schedule. Did you notice how many of them were described as vigorous, or good multipliers? I hope eventually to be growing some of these in larger groupings in less frequently mown areas, with plenty on hand for a bouquet for my DH.

How about you? Is there any flower that holds particular meaning for you?

Photo credits: Narcissus ‘Rimmon’ and ‘Vernal Prince’ photos by Anne Nigrelli, used with permission of David Burdick. The following photos were obtained from DaffSeek, a service of the American Daffodil Society, and used with permission of Nancy Tackett. N.’Angel’–Tony James; N. ‘Malin Head’–Kirby Fong; N. ‘Achnasheen’–Wells Knierim; and N. ‘Eland’–George Tarry.

About the Author

Kathy Purdy is a colchicum evangelist, converting unsuspecting gardeners into colchicophiles. She would be delighted to speak to your group about colchicums or other gardening topics. Kathy’s been writing since 4th grade, gardening since high school, and blogging since 2002.

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.

~Albert Camus in Albert Camus quotations

Comments on this entry are closed.

TylaMac April 25, 2012, 11:37 pm

I love all members of the narcissus family but poeticus types don’t care much for hot southern summers so I haven’t had much luck with them.Thanks to the great prices offered by Brent and Becky’s Bulbs in their end of season sale last fall I decided to try Goose Green,a small-cupped daff with poeticus parentage. Even though the first five flower stems blasted in 90-degree heat (in March!),a few cool nights brought on another 8 flower stems. The scent is so strong I can actually smell it from across the yard even with a terrible sinus infection.If it comes back next year I will be able to finally declare a poeticus success.

Sarah from Toronto Gardens July 16, 2010, 1:13 am

Narcissus poeticus is my favourite one, didn’t know there were different varieties. Great post. Love the story of your narcissus toting husband to be. Sweet.
.-= Sarah from Toronto Gardens´s last blog ..Blooms Day- July 2010- Colour strategies for shade =-.

Donalyn July 15, 2010, 9:03 pm

I am pleased to be a lucky reciprient of some of those beauties – as is my daughter, since I passed a few along to her. I wanted to be selfish and keep every single one for myself, but I decided to be as generous as you are. I can’t wait to see them next spring.

I must have at least a few new daylilies every year – I need that anticipation to get me through the winter. 😉
.-= Donalyn´s last blog ..Count them! =-.

Kathy Purdy April 7, 2007, 4:47 pm

Hi, Esther–
The problem is not with daffodils in the ground, but when they’re in the vase. Cut daffodils are said to give off a substance that causes other kinds of cut flowers to wilt prematurely. But growing in your garden they do not have any harmful effects on other plants.

esther haney April 7, 2007, 4:40 pm

I have been told that daffodils will kill any other flowers planted nearby, yet have never read anything to that effect.
Have you ever encountered this?

Thank you

Bob Ewing April 3, 2007, 10:46 am

Daffodils are my wife’s favourite flower. I have been considering naturalizing our yard when we move next Spring so she will have them all around.

Kim April 1, 2007, 10:18 am

Kathy, I have never been able to discern a scent from the flowers. I have only had them for two years now, and had maybe 4-5 stalks of flowers last year. I had asked my grandmother to describe what they were supposed to smell like since I couldn’t smell anything on the cluster of flowers that I picked from them, but she says that she’d never noticed a scent from them at all, either.

Kathy Purdy April 1, 2007, 9:42 am

Kim, can this be true: a lily-of-the-valley with no scent?

Kim March 31, 2007, 4:24 pm

I forgot to answer your question. I just made a rather long post about the meaning that the spring woodland flowers “back home” have for me. I also have a small (right now) start of lily-of-the-valley that traces its roots back to my great-great-grandmother’s house. My grandfather dug up a start from there as they were cleaning out her house. It has no scent, unfortunately, but I love it just the same for the family connection.

Carol March 31, 2007, 7:08 am

I greatly enjoyed your story, what a wonderful memory for you and you told it so well. A great piece of writing.

I have daffodils, but most came from those giant bags with no names. I need to add a few white ones to my garden!

LostRoses March 31, 2007, 12:38 am

Alright, I’m going to have to get some white daffodils! What a charming story and a great memory you’ve obviously cherished.

Kathy Purdy March 30, 2007, 9:32 pm

Thank you everyone for your encouraging responses. MSS–Paperwhites are narcissus; they count! I love looking at photos of yours when all of mine are still under snow.

My DH is quite a catch but also very private. I would brag on him more than I do, but for his sake I try to keep him out of the limelight as much as possible.

M Sinclair Stevens (Texas) March 30, 2007, 9:08 pm

Lovely post and you make me envy you for both your daffodils and DH’s thoughtfulness.

I did some research on daffodils in the mid 1990s and I remember also being very taken with ‘Angel’. I don’t have any whites, though (except the paperwhites). Daffodils are an iffy proposition in Austin. I’ve mostly given them up although I did reorder the orange-scented ‘Quail’ because it lasted a few years for me the last time before rotting away.

Cynthia March 30, 2007, 7:28 pm

A wonderful post indeed! I am smiling as I think of your DH running up three flights of stairs to deliver flowers to his bride-to-be! Now if I could get him to talk to my DH?!

Hmm… a particular flower that has special significance to me would be the lily of the valley (Convallaria majalis) that grew behind our home up in your neck of the woods. The fragrance was divine! While looking up the scientific name, I noticed that a French toilet water is made from the flowers – eau d’or!

Why is this flower special to me? My children used to come running into the house with delight in their eyes and anticipation in their hearts for a hug when they brought handfuls of these fragrant bell-shaped blossoms to their Mommy!

Thanks for this special piece of writing!

Kim March 29, 2007, 8:45 pm

What a wonderful post, Kathy! I am going to smile and think of your little love story whenever I see those small-flowered daffodils… and hopefully I’ll see more of them next year, as I was just thinking that they might make me relent in regards to not planting daffodils. 🙂

Oldroses March 29, 2007, 6:16 pm

Wow, what a great story! Sounds like you got quite a catch. I love your new daffodils. I agree with Annie. Rimmon looks spectacular. I’m looking forward to pictures of it in your garden.

Kathy Purdy March 29, 2007, 12:39 pm

Annie, it took me a long time to write this entry, so I’m glad it gave you a lot of pleasure. And I am really glad to hear you read the garden quotes, they’re one of my pet projects.

Annie in Austin March 29, 2007, 11:25 am

This post is so emotionally engaging, Kathy! First you tug at our heartstrings with the lover bounding up the stairs to deliver Narcissus poeticus, then you incite a riot in whatever part of the brain where plant-lust resides.

‘Rimmon’ nearly knocked me off my chair.

The daffodils I planted last fall came up nearly 3 weeks after all the others had appeared – as you have noticed, this does seem to happened when they’re new or relocated.

I will now wait patiently, hoping your favorite flowers have enough oomph to bloom and that you will take photos!

Annie at the Transplantable Rose

[And I love the quote that popped up at the bottom, “But gardeners do not dwell too long on catastrophe. Failure is an accepted part of daily life and we value our successes the more.”
Geoffrey B. Charlesworth]