The daffodils have broken ground, emblazoning our parks and gardens. The golden stronghold of ‘King Alfred’ and his allies marks the break with winter that we have all been waiting for, but I feel a little punch drunk from colour by the end of the month.
Sometime in the past, the orchard here was planted with a mixture of long-forgotten hybrids that over the years mixed with the wild Narcissus pseudonarcissus. Pale and not so far in colour from the primroses among them, they were all individuals, with gentle twists in the petals and trumpets as varied.
Once you have tasted good chocolate, it is impossible to eat anything that doesn’t measure up. I feel much the same way about ‘King Alfred’ – there are a fleet of beauties that are far more refined and forgiving: try ‘WP Milner’, ‘Minnow’, ‘Petrel’. I experiment by buying a few bulbs each year, which I keep in pots near the house so I can see what happens over the course of their flowering. Some change in colour as they age – in the case of ‘Jenny’, from cream with a primrose throat to a bone-white throughout once fully opened. Others, such as ‘Segovia’, a miniature pheasant’s eye, are deliciously perfumed. All have delicate flowers that dance with other springtimers and never dominate.
As I have been looking for varieties that are good for naturalising in grass, I’ll pay particular attention to the foliage, which I like to be fine so that it sits well in a meadow. Delicate, creamy ‘Hawera’, cyclamineus forms with their flung-back petals and perfumed jonquils: all allow you to see the flower and not the foliage. The Jonquil narcissus are late to flower and have sweetly perfumed foliage that is a darker green than your usual narcissus.
I love the straight Narcissus jonquilla, which are sometimes two to a head. The flowers are no larger than a buttercup, so the fact that they are gold is never dominant. I grow a good hybrid jonquil called ‘Silver Chimes’. It is altogether more ornamental and in my book – too showy to grow among the grass, but a bunch will perfume a room. Narcissus ‘Pipit’ must have some jonquil blood, for it is beautifully scented.
I have planted Narcissus pseudonarcissus down by the stream, where I hope in time they will naturalise. This British native is a coloniser of woods and coppices and when it is happy it will seed to form drifts. The flowers are no more than a foot in height with a rich yellow trumpet and paler outer petals that twist finely forward. ‘Moschatus’ is a pure white and very desirable.
Over the past couple of years I’ve been exploring the heritage varieties to see if I can find some that feel like the inhabitants of our old orchard. ‘Beryl’ is scented and a firm new favourite, and ‘Stella’, too. Those I like are added to the bank so that one day my crabapples will be complemented by a host of daffodils.
Get growing
All bulbs need at least five weeks to replenish their resources after they have flowered, so do not cut their foliage until you can see it visibly withered.
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