“She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbor:
“Winter is dead.”
~ When We Were Very Young
Most of the world calls these lovely blooms daffodils. To me, they will always be buttercups. Whatever you call them, they are symbols of the easing of cold weather and, very often, markers of old homesteads. I’ve loved these hardy harbingers of spring my whole life, And yet, I knew little about their origin or reproduction. Until this week.
What are they, anyway?
The Southern Bulb Company tells us that a daffodil is part of the plant genus Narcissus . So, daffodils, paperwhites, and jonquils are all related. Speaking of jonquils, they are all daffodils, but all daffodils are not jonquils. The latter has to meet certain criteria, such as:
- There are usually one to five flowers to a stem;
- The perianths (petals) are spreading or reflexed (they bend back);
- The corona/trumpet is usually wider than long; and
- The flowers are usually fragrant.
Depending on which botanist you ask, there are between 40 and 200 varieties and over 32,000 hybrids.
Where did they get their start?
According to the Sarah Raven in a 2020 article,* daffodils date back 1500 years and are rooted (no pun intended) in Mediterranean forests. Even the royals appreciated these beauties, apparently, as they have been found in Egyptian tombs. Some 1000 years later these blooms migrated to Europe. They became popular, in part, because the demand for tulips was driving those prices up. From that area, popularity spread west across Europe and across the pond to us–with the Pilgrims.
*In full transparency, one article in a commercial site states that daffodils are from Spain and Portugal and yet another commercial site declares that daffodils were introduced into Britain by the Romans. What I’m pretty sure of by now is that they are not indigenous to North America. And I thought the history of can openers was complicated. Sheesh. Back to flowers.
How do they multiply?
I have long assumed, as I’m sure some others have, that since daffodils grow from bulbs, their locations always indicate sites where families had lived. I was wrong but I now stand corrected.
According to the ADS, the bulbs do clone themselves (asexual multiplication) and when that process occurs, the flower that results will be identical to the original. However, reproduction can occur when the plant is pollinated during bloom by either the wind or insects. In those cases, when the seed pod/ovary swells there’s actually seed in it. The seed pod is the swelling at the top of the stem, just below/behind the petals.
When reproduction occurs this way (naturally) there will be one or two seeds produced. When growers force the process, many more seeds are created. Either way, plants growing from seed may not bloom for up to five years.
Tips on Growing
If you don’t already have daffodils on your property, you’ll want to check out their appetite for your weather before you set out bulbs. They have a high tolerance to cold and, in fact, require a chill to initiate bud development. This is why some of our coastal neighbors won’t be able to grow them easily. If your geographic location isn’t an issue, remember these tips/details from Country Living:
- Don’t cut off the stems until they start to turn yellow. The bulbs are rebuilding themselves. You wouldn’t unplug your laptop while it’s updating, would you?
- The daffodil’s sap is poisonous to some other flowers. If you want to use them in a multi-genus bouquet, soak the stems first–for 24 hours. Oh, heck. Just put the daffodils in a vase by themselves. Why would you want to dilute that kind of beauty?
- The aforementioned sap is in the bulbs and leaves and is poisonous to dogs. And to squirrels, but that won’t keep either kind furry critter from digging up the bulbs.
- Depending on the variety and weather, plants may bloom for well over six weeks.
All told, it seems there are few downsides to having these in your yard, once the grunt work of setting out bulbs is done. You’ll want to keep your four-legged family members well away from them, though.
A rose by any other name
Even after all this reading and writing, these beautiful first-out-of-the-gate flowers will always be buttercups to me. And they will always appear as delicate bits of sunshine bursting from the winter earth, offering the promise of warmer days ahead. There isn’t much (besides a small group of people and a few comfort foods) that always make me smile. But buttercups do.
You?
I recall calling daffodils buttercups as a young person though according to google a different genius. Google goes on to say the names are used interchangeably….which I find confusing.
Don’t listen to Google – not in this case. In England a buttercup is a pretty little flower, but looks NOTHING like what we call buttercups. Well, what we called buttercups in West Tennessee, anyway.