The 2024 "Lonely as a cloud" beauty contest

We love daffodils. Daffodils love the soil in our garden. So we have a lot of them and plan on getting more, following the simple rule of thumb that if something works, you might as well do more of it.

Daffodils gained literary fame thanks to Wordsworth’s poem we’ve all read but “daffodils” is not even their true name. They were in fact named after the mythological embodiment of selfishness — Narcissus — which is their scientific name.

The word “daffodil” actually comes from the green “asphodelos”, which is a completely different plant, but heavy with Greek mythology about death and the Underworld.

Down here, we call them narcisses. And we’ve got a lot of varieties. They’re all beautiful in their own way, and here they are.

A basic, no frills, daffodil variety that brings joy to beholders. One of the few that deigned to face north, allowing us to see their faces in turn, instead of south, which is where most of them prefer to turn to.

A frills-on variety that was procured last year as a set of “mixed varieties”, which added the thrill of discovery to the whole daffodil appreciation thing we practice.

It was generous enough to not only flower in its first year with us, but this year gave us three flowers to enjoy as long as we were willing to basically squat in the rosebush right in front of it. South-facer. Here’s one of all three, narcissistically turning their backs on the house.

Daffodils are a treat for some flea-like species of insect that can’t wait to dig in the moment the plants show up. This year, the daffodils got a bit of luck because they were out earlier than the bugs. Little comfort since when the bugs started catching up their really caught up. We applied soapy water featuring potassium permanganate, our new favourite garden help.

This delicate variety was, for some reason, spared by the daffodil eaters. Maybe even they could appreciate its beauty although it’s far more likely they were too busy killing off one bright yellow variety before even a single plant flowered.

This is another bright yellow variety that had more luck because it was planted in a new place. We’re hoping for good growth by next year, so the daffodils would conceal the ugly concrete foundation of the summer kitchen.

Another member of the ugly concrete foundation concealment team, the twin daffodil, flowered for the first time since its move to this spot. They’re tiny but fluffy.

Another newcomer, this one kept the suspence going until the last possible moment. Last year, when we planted the bulb it only sprouted leaves. This year, it was gracious enough to form a flower but by the time it finally opened, we had almost stopped caring how it looked. We were greatly rewarded for our patience.

By far our most prolific variety, which takes nothing away of its prettiness. A humble basic daffodil model, it nevertheless brings additional joy to spring mornings with its contrasting colours. And, clearly, nutrition to the evil bugs. All in all, however, despite the bugs, we’re putting this year’s daffodil season down as successful.