Nature Photography

Little Sparks of Sunshine

The daffodils of spring

I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o’er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. — William Wordsworth

Ever since I read these lines, by William Wordsworth, when I was a teenager, the thought of daffodils has summoned up a deep sense of peacefulness in me. I just can’t help but picture them “tossing their heads in sprightly dance” and about the “wealth” of the moment, real at the time, and also imagined later “in the bliss of solitude.”

In my Southern Californian garden, the first of the daffodils light up the dark crevices under rock walls and ferns in January. When I first starting planting daffodil bulbs, a decade and a half ago, I did not realize that so many varieties of daffodils existed nor that they all bloomed at different times. Each year, though, I have added more and more bulbs in an attempt to re-create that vision of peacefulness in my own small patch of the world.

And, because I now have so many varieties of daffodils, we are lucky enough to be treated to an ongoing “daffodil parade” of various types opening their sunny little faces to the sun all the way through mid-May.

The first to make an appearance are the yellow-and-white and solid yellow “trumpet” types.

I find them to be especially enchanting after a winter rain when they are speckled with water droplets.

And when I, unexpectedly, spot the first one of the year, I am always surprised.

“Oh daffodil, you are too early, pulsing in the darkness… …a spark of buttered sunshine entwined with shadows of the night.”

I’m not the only one in the family who loves the daffodils. My sweet Bisou has always been my “garden helper.”

I always wonder — Do they anticipate the tickle of a bee’s tiny feet? Do they think such things? Do flowers think at all?

Yes — I am certain that they do.

By February, “Jetfire” makes an appearance.

And in March, several other, smaller-cupped, version begin to mingle with the poppies and the ranunculus.

I’ve always especially loved the “ruffled” varieties.

And the way the sunshine filters through the petals of the snow white daffodils bestills my beating heart.

Some are tinged with a touch of buttercream.

And some are just as golden as the pale spring sunshine.

Some express their individuality with orange skirts.

And, in April, the Narcissus poeticus, or “poet’s daffodils” variety bursts onto the scene with its short cup and “flaming ring of fire” inner petal and its divinely sweet fragrance.

Throughout the entire season, those initial bright yellow daffodils, the ones that I always think of when I think of Wordsworth, continue to bloom.

The ruffled ones dance their way through the soft spring rains of April.

And the last ones to appear in my garden — they are still going this year — are these softly-drooping orange and white types. They face towards the earth, as if providing umbrellas for the fairies.

I never really think of paper whites, which appear in November, as daffodils, because they inhabit such a different season. But technically, they are of the family narcissus too. So, I guess that you could think of them either as late or early-bloomers, depending on your frame of mind.

Wherever you may live, I imagine that the sight of daffodils evokes in you a sense of impending spring, a spark of wonder at the world beginning to regenerate, and, hopefully, a little joy and a sense of peace.

For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils. — William Wordsworth

(The full poem can be found here).

Erika Burkhalter is a yogi, neurophilosopher, cat-mom, photographer, and lover of travel and nature, spreading her love and amazement for Mother Earth’s glories, one photo, poem, or story at a time. (MS Neuropsychology, MA Yoga Studies).

You might also enjoy:

If you enjoyed this piece, you might consider subscribing to my stories. You’ll get an alert whenever a story gets published. While I do normally post my stories with free “friends” links on social media, if you enjoy reading on Medium, you can help the many talented writers here by joining. It helps to support the arts and to keep us writing! And if you are ever interested in acquiring a photo, just leave me a note,

Photos and story ©Erika Burkhalter. All rights reserved.