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Menopausal Mother Nature

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Feral Daffodils revisited

Urban Daffodils brightening the day in Oundle

We are in Daffodil season again – getting towards the end of it in these parts. And, for me (I’ve written about this before), there are good Daffodils and bad Daffodils.

Good Daffodils are either wild Daffodils, and there aren’t any of those around here, or urban/garden Daffodils. I like a nice ‘Daff’ in the right place. They really do make a great splash of colour at this time of year. The ones above, even the white ones (which I tolerate rather than actively like), are very welcome.

But I don’t like feral Daffodils – plonked Daffodils – like the small clump below.

These feral clumps are a visual intrusion – I was slightly surprised that there wasn’t a pile of crashed cars on this corner as drivers had splutteringly lost control of their vehicles after passing this unwanted distraction.

Feral Daffodils are an eyesore, a visual intrusion, a plonked patch of interfering yellowness that disrupts the harmony of the countryside’s colour scheme.

It’s very simple – Daffodils are either wild (good Daffodils) or urban/garden Daffodils (good to goodish Daffodils). Any Daffodil that gets into the countryside outside a 30mph or 40mph limit sign is a feral Daffodil and deserves to be rounded up or shot.

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