These babies are tough! We had not one but two late-April snowstorms, after they'd already started blooming. The poor daffodils were bowed to the ground under the weight of the slush and snow. After each snowstorm, I watched with amazement as little by little they lifted themselves out of the snow--a little battered, a little bruised--and perked right back up.
Uh-oh, the marauding hordes are headed into my garden.
A bunch of fresh-picked daffodils for our friends (and next-door neighbors) who just had their second baby. I love all the different types, but if I had to choose a favorite, it would probably be the delicate narcissus poeticus. (Top-middle left, white with a simple orange and yellow throat.) They have the most delicious clean fragrance, an austere simplicity, and of course that name.
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