Daffodil that beat the odds offers first sign of spring

Plants have to earn a spot in my garden. If I don’t love them, they are on the express train to the compost pile.

I’m not heartless; it’s just that in a world with so many great plants, life is too short to suffer with poor performers.

But there is one plant in my garden that is exempt from the rules. It is a nondescript daffodil that grows in a sunny bed along the front of the house.

I’m sure I planted that bulb at some point many years ago, probably well before I paid any attention to what kind of bulbs I was planting. Over the years, it has endured extraordinarily cruel treatment at the hand of this gardener.

The charmed daffodil lives in a skinny bed no more than 30 inches wide between the house and a south-facing patio.

At one time, the area, which also gets reflected heat and light from the white house, was difficult to find the right plants for, so for years I’d plunk something else there hoping it would finally work. I must have accidentally dug up that daffodil bulb dozens of times when I moved plants around.

Finally, several years ago I got smart and removed everything from the bed, amended the soil with homemade compost and decided that I would just plant it up with dahlias and annuals. Somehow, in the mass exodus of plants from that bed, the daffodil was missed.

Bulbs need the food provided by their foliage to gain strength to grow and bloom the following year, so it’s recommended that you let the foliage die back naturally.

But I abuse this poor daffodil in this regard as well, chopping off its floppy leaves as soon as its time to plant near it.

Amazingly, it continues to tolerate this mistreatment year after year.

Because it is in a warm microclimate, it is always the first thing up in spring. It beats even the winter aconites, cheery little yellow flowers planted not far from the daffodil but without the protection of the house.

I saw its first green shoots a couple weeks ago and this weekend noticed the first sign of a flower bud.

It is a harbinger of spring that, despite being rather unremarkable, is a sweet sight.

And that alone makes it worthy of its spot.

It’s not the prettiest plant in the garden, but it can stay.