A Field of Gold

Narcissus.  Daffodils.  Jonquils.  I'm certain that there's a great explanation for all those names, but here in East Texas, we just call them all daffodils.

I don't like daffodils.  Actually, I should clarify that.  I don't like daffodils in my garden.  Well, let me clarify that a little more.  I don't like yellow daffodils in my garden, at least, not very much.

It's complicated.

Last year, I was thrilled when the white daffodil 'Thalia' emerged at just the same time as my red dianthus began to bloom.  It was beautiful.

But, I've never wanted yellow daffodils in my garden.  I wasn't sure why.  I love yellow.  It's actually one of my favorite colors, so that wasn't it.  I love that yellow daffodils bloom early in the spring.  They are a welcome sight - outside of my garden.

Why don't I want them in my own garden?  I've been giving this a lot of thought lately, and I think I figured it out.

One of the Seasonal Celebrations I have always looked forward to in spring is going by the home in which my great-grandmother lived most of her adult life.  And where she planted a beautiful garden.  I can remember playing in her garden as a child.  I spent many summers there under her crape myrtle trees, playing in the dirt.  Now I always make a special trip to go by there in spring, because that's when the daffodils bloom.

Her birthday is March 7th, and I can imagine that she loved to see the daffodils blooming for her birthday.  She passed away in 1980, but her daffodils still continue to bloom each spring.  There are so many at her old homestead that that they have escaped out into the fields, and there they continue to thrive.  She has plain daffodils and fancy daffodils.  And some small ones that are probably some sort of species or natural hybrid.

The small ones have a scent that is wonderful.  Even on a windy day, you can smell their sweet fragrance.

These daffodils are survivors.  Not only have they escaped her yard, they have escaped the fields beside her house.  The road leading to her home is dotted with these same daffodils.  It makes me wonder how many years they have been growing.  How they managed to escape.  And how they continue to thrive with absolutely no care.

These have more rounded petals than the ones above.

I realized I love these daffodils.  So, why don't I like them in my own garden?  That was the question I asked myself over and over.

Then it dawned on me.

I love my great-grandmother's daffodils precisely because they are growing out in the field.  I love seeing them in the wild.  And that's when it hit me.

These daffodils have been blooming in the fields beside her home for so many years, that to me, that is how they should be grown.  Not in a garden.  But, in an open pasture.

Every year I think about digging up some of the daffodils that have escaped into the open fields.  But since I never wanted them in my garden, I never did.  But this year is different.  This year I want some of them.  I don't want them for my garden.  I want to put them in the fields that surround my home, just as they grow in the fields beside her home.

That is the Lesson Learned.  Plants have personal meaning and memories attached to them.  We should figure out what they are, and how and where that plant should be grown to preserve those memories.

I will finally love having yellow daffodils.  Because they were hers.  And they will be grown as her daffodils have grown for years - wild and free, in a field of gold.

I'm joining Donna at Gardens Eye View for Seasonal Celebrations, and Beth at PlantPostings for Lessons Learned.