COLOUR IN MY GARDEN 



admiration. Here a well-shaped bush of old-fashioned 

 yellow-flowering Currant stands like a great fragrant 

 bouquet above a close ground cover of Canadian Phlox 

 (Phlox divaricata). 



But all this is but by way of preamble. The sweetest 

 and fairest of spring's yellow blossoms has been for many 

 weeks sending up its slender water-green spears and opening 

 a radiant blossom here and there — "a sudden flame of 

 gold and sweet" — until they are assembled army strong and 

 one seems to hear the challenge : 



King Trumpeter to Flora Queen, 



Hey, ho, daffodil! 



Blow, and the golden jousts begin! 



Begin indeed with such a burst of fluttering, soft-coloured 

 confusion as never was and never will be until Daffodil 

 time is again upon the land. 



There they go streaming the length of one border — pale, 

 starlike hosts with a ribbon of purple Aubrietia wound 

 among them; there they stand, long golden trumpets, in a 

 flutter above a cloud of silver-lilac Phlox, and again how 

 they pick their way among the fallen Cherry blossoms. 



Why plan colour harmonies for those to whom inharmony 

 is impossible — why even choose varieties when every 

 separate flower is a spring poem? May we not just go 

 "dancing with the Daffodils" where ignorance is bliss? 

 But the wise ones tell us that if we have not knowledge of 

 how to choose our partners the dance may prove a dirge. 

 All Daffodils do not thrive equally well in all gardens nor in 

 all situations. The white trumpets (like N. albicans) ask 



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