"Pay attention to the world." -- Susan Sontag
 

Daffodils: A Gathering (3 of 4)

From “Narcissi” in The Lore and Legends of Flowers by Robert L. Crowell, illustrated by Anne Ophelia Dowden:

“There are many strains of native narcissus, and their hybrid descendants have greatly swelled the number. To add to the confusion, there is confusion in the terms! The daffodil, the jonquil, and the narcissus are all kinds of narcissus and are within the meaning of the Latin term narcissi, but not everyone knows where one leaves off and the others begin. To add to the confusion, narcissus is a common name for one of the kinds of narcissus! For the sake of convenience, here are three very broad categories:

“(1) The daffodil or trumpet type — this includes
Narcissus pseudo-narcissus and is recognized by its big central trumpet, which is like the mouthpiece of an old-fashioned telephone. It is the parent of almost all of our big-trumpet daffodils.

“(2) The jonquil, which is yellow but sports different hues of yellow from those of the daffodil. The jonquil has rushlike leaves, and the flowers are clustered on each stem.

“(3) The narcissus, which has white petals and sepals and a cup often edged with orange or red.

“Within these large categories the species and varieties are legion. The ‘common’ daffodil (
Narcissus pseudo-narcissus), which delighted Wordsworth and which enlivens the window boxes of London each April, is found among trees and in thickets in many parts of northern Europe. The ‘hoop petticoat’ narcissus, with its crown flared out like the skirt of a ballet dancer, makes its home in southern France and Morocco. Narcissus tazetta, the most widely distributed of all, is especially partial to Eurasia and the Canary Islands. Narcissus jonquilla is native to southern Europe and Algeria. Indeed, the Iberian peninsula is a stronghold of many species that survive in the wild.”

From “A Daffodil Code” in Daffodil: Biography of a Flower by Helen O’Neill:

“To humans Narcissus tazetta has simply always been there. It has journeyed far from its original home in south-western Europe and gathered many names on the way, from Polyanthus Narcissus, Nosegay Daffodils, Paperwhites, Suisen (by the Japanese), Joss Flower to Chinese Sacred Lily in China, where it is considered auspicious.”

From “Early Spring (1860)” in Poems of John Clare’s Madness, edited by Geoffrey Grigson:

The spring is come, and spring flowers coming too,
The crocus, patty kay, the rich heartsease;
The polyanthus peeps with blebs of dew,
And daisy flowers; the buds swell on the trees;
While o’er the odd flowers swim grandfather bees.
In the old homestead rests the cottage cow;
The dogs sit on their haunches near the pale,
The least one to the stranger growls ‘bow-wow’,
Then hurries to the door and cocks his tail,
To gnaw the unfinished bone; the placid cow
Looks o’er the gate; the thresher’s lumping flail
Is all the noise the spring encounters now


Hello!

This is the third of four posts exploring four daffodil varieties that I photographed at Oakland Cemetery earlier this year. The first post about Narcissus pseudonarcissus is Daffodils: A Gathering (1 of 4); and the second post about Narcissus ร— incomparabilis is Daffodils: A Gathering (2 of 4).

This post has photos of Narcissus tazetta, a daffodil species with a long history going back to antiquity whose descendants often appear in Victorian gardens like Oakland, with a naturalization history that extends throughout many of the southeastern states in the United States. And as we discussed in the previous post, wild or genetically engineered pairings of Narcissus tazetta with Narcissus pseudonarcissus produce the Incomparable Daffodil, Narcissus ร— incomparabilis.

Across the two excerpts and the poem at the top of this post, you’ll see quite a few of Narcissus tazetta’s common names. There are others as well, and here’s a list — which may or may not be exhaustive — of the common names (alphabetical of course) that I came across while learning more about the tazettas:

Bunch-flowered Daffodil
Bunch-flowered Narcissus
Chinese Sacred Lily
Cream Narcissus
French Daffodil
Joss Flower
Nosegay Daffodils
Paperwhite
Polyanthus Daffodil
Polyanthus Narcissus
Paperwhites
Suisen

Some of these names reflect regional naming conventions, adapted to English, like French Daffodil and Suisen — an anglicized Japanese term that, used in an internet search, will take you to images of and articles about Narcissus tazetta. Chinese Sacred Lily and Joss flower have similar regional meanings but with an additional ceremonial connotation, as “joss” refers to Chinese religious objects. Paperwhite crosses floral boundaries, since it’s also a descriptive name for Amaryllis — especially forced Amaryllis that often occupy western homes around the Christmas holiday — and the visual similarity between the two probably led to the name’s cross-pollination, as well as the fact that their plant family Amaryllidaceae includes both Narcissus and Amaryllis. The remaining terms refer more closely to the plants’ botanical characteristics, especially Bunch-flowered, Nosegay, and Polyanthus — all of which describe the way the tazetta flowers often split off from a single stem and cluster together as if in a bouquet.

So what’s in a name? Many, many things — apparently!

Thanks for reading and taking a look!








White Double Daffodils (2 of 2)

From “Daffodil: Spring’s Messenger” in The Story of Flowers: And How They Changed the Way We Live by Noel Kingsbury:

“At the turn of the nineteenth century William Herbert, a lifelong enthusiastic plant-breeder, made a study of daffodils, showing through experimental breeding that they hybridized naturally. This contributed to his developing a version of the theory of evolution, decades before Charles Darwin. Another country cleric, George Engleheart, later in the century, played a crucial role in the development of the modern daffodil; his โ€˜Will Scarlettโ€™, with its dramatic orange cup, was quite unlike anything else that had been seen, and led to a whole new vein of breeding. Daffodil-growing took a leap forwards in the late nineteenth century, when two key British gardeners, William Robinson and Gertrude Jekyll, showed how easy it was to plant them in rough grass and watch them come up year after year. This helped to stimulate major commercial development in the century that followed….

“The white, heavily scented N. tazetta has been found in ancient Egyptian tombs and was mentioned by classical writers: Homer, Virgil and Ovid. The Silk Road took it to China, where it has long been used in the Spring Festival. Pockets of it naturalized all along the route.

“The botanical name commemorates the Greek legend of Narcissus, who fell in love with his own reflection; this is also possibly a reference to the plantโ€™s supposed (although not well documented) narcotic properties. The scent of some species is indeed so strong that people can be overcome by headaches. The range of species is wide, and includes a number of flower shapes, although all have the distinctive trumpet-like corona, which early twenty-first-century research indicates is unique to
Narcissus.”

From “Spring in the South” by Davie M. Herndon in Our World’s Most Beloved Poems, edited by John Campbell:

Crocus blooming at the mailbox,
Yards brightened up with yellow bells,
White spirea and snowy bridal wreath โ€”
That Spring is here it’s easy to tell.

White narcissus and snowdrops small,
Hosts of golden daffodils,
Hyacinths in their waxen hues
All the air their perfume fills.

Tulip trees burst in lilac bloom
While in many hues azaleas dress;
And all the vari-colored bulbs
Through the warm earth gently press.

Camellias nestle on dark green stems โ€”
Pink, white, rose-all three of these;
Wisteria of lavendar and deep purple shade
Drooping gracefully from tall pine trees.

Lawns all abloom wherever you look โ€”
Blossoming dogwoods grace every way,
Heavily laden as with myriad snowflakes โ€”
Hasn’t God made a beautiful display?


Hello!

This is the second of two posts with photos of white double Narcissus tazetta daffodils that I took at Oakland Cemetery on March 30. The first post is White Double Daffodils (1 of 2).

In this post, we take a closer look at the flower structures — a bee’s eye view! — showing how the plants produce inflorescence that may cluster horizontally or vertically or assemble into tiny bouquets. In some cases — when a flower is more isolated from the rest of the gang — it may develop a single bloom atop a sturdy stem or arc gracefully toward the light if the bloom is large and heavy. And as I explained in the previous post, you can also see how each one contains the yellow/orange rippled remnants of what would have been a recognizable corona in a daffodil that had not evolved into a double form.

I selected the poem at the top of the post because of its visual intensity and the way it quite accurately represents the sequential timeline of flowers blooming in the southeast — from the late winter appearance of crocus and spirea, through the early and middle spring appearance of the remaining plants the poet describes. Of course I also noticed that I’ve photographed all but two of the plants included in the poem — mainly at Oakland, but some in my own yard — and posted them here over the past few years. I added links to those tagged posts throughout the poem, if you’d like to explore more of my photography and writing in that somewhat random way.

Thanks for taking a look!










White Double Daffodils (1 of 2)

From “Daffodil Definitions” in Daffodil: The Remarkable Story of the World’s Most Popular Spring Flower by Noel Kingsbury:

“The genus Narcissus is one of some sixty in the family Amaryllidaceae, which also includes snowdrops, clivia, and of course Amaryllis. What sets Narcissus apart is the cup or corona….

“The standard pattern for flowers is for them to be made up of four whorls of tissue: sepals (which often form the protective bud), petals, stamens (carrying male pollen-bearing organs), and carpels (protecting the female organ)…. Debate among botanists has raged since the middle of the nineteenth century about whether the corona is derived from the stamens or the perianth segments; similar structures can be seen in other members of the amaryllis family, although it is thought that they arose independently. Now, it appears as if the question has been solved — the daffodil cup is a structure that has evolved independently of either perianth segments or stamens and is unique to the daffodil. What evolutionary advantage it serves remains open to question
possibly it helps directs pollinating insects or protects the stamens from rain.

“There are some seventy species of
Narcissus, although some botanists might reduce this to fifty, and others increase to a hundred. As with many plant genera, there are a few species spread over a large area and a ‘centre of diversity,’ where a small area includes a much larger number of localised species. For the daffodil, that centre of diversity is the mountains of the Iberian peninsula (i.e., Spain and Portugal) and the mountains just across the water in the Maghreb (i.e., Morocco and Algeria). Only one species, N. pseudonarcissus, has a really wide distribution in western Europe; N. poeticus (the familiar pheasantโ€™s eye) and the white N. serotinus are found across the regions immediately north of the Mediterranean, while the heavily fragrant white N. tazetta is found further eastwards around the Mediterranean into Iran.”

From “White Narcissus” in Sunlight and Shadows by Mabel Clare Thomas:

Winds across my garden,
Damp and chill,
Bring a breath of Springtime
To my window sill
From the ivory chalices,
Filled with gold,
Of my first narcissus
Braving the cold.

Other flowers sleeping
In their beds,
Miss the fragile beauty
Above their heads
Where my white narcissus,
Harbinger of Spring,
Dances with the breezes
While the robins sing.


Hello!

This is the first of two posts with photos of a double form of the well-known daffodil Narcissus tazetta that I took at Oakland Cemetery on March 30. Each photo is of one or more flowers integrated into the memorial display shown below, one that represents a very typical and complex Victorian garden arrangement with a raised platform, large and richly surfaced stone walls, access steps, and varied plant populations providing visual interest with contrasting colors and textures.

This location is just a few steps beyond that of the Lady Banks’ Rose (Rosa banksiae var. lutea) I wrote about previously (see Discovering (and Rediscovering) Lady Banksโ€™ Rose (3 of 4)), and — as you can see here — the Duncan memorial and some of the double Narcissus tazetta flowers are visible from a distance, toward the left side of this image from the earlier post.

This entire section of Oakland includes some of its oldest and most elaborate displays, and any single wider-angle photo necessarily includes elements from more than one memorial plot. The weathered gazebo you can see in the first image — which looks like it’s within the Duncan memorial — is actually part of another family section, shown here, where it is included as a representation of living activity among the headstones, memorial urns, and intricate mausoleum that I’ll write more about later — when I introduce photos of the tiny yellow daffodils providing abundant spring color to this scene.

I included the excerpt from Noel Kingsbury’s Daffodil: The Remarkable Story of the World’s Most Popular Spring Flower because its description of the parts of a flower and the distinctive corona (or cup or trumpet) of many daffodils can help us understand the unique characteristics of a double daffodil. As you can see from the galleries below, these daffodils don’t have coronas. They possess, instead, a genetic variation where the corona has mutated into a layer or layers of flower petals at the center of each bloom, surrounded by several additional rows of white petals. The yellow-orange color you see at the centers of these flowers would have been the corona, were it not for the mutation that caused the plant to essentially reconstruct that corona into petals instead.

This means — as the excerpt also implies — that double daffodils don’t possess the reproductive structures that are present in daffodils with coronas, so even if they attracted pollinator attention, they wouldn’t reproduce by pollination or seed. There is nothing, as it turns out, for the bugs and bees to do — so it’s quite convenient for the double daffodils that they’ve evolved to reproduce by bulb division. This garden space likely contains descendants of original white double daffodils planted decades ago, with succeeding generations enabled by human caretakers digging up and replanting regenerated daffodil bulbs to maintain the landscaping characteristics of this historical design.

Thanks for reading and taking a look!