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This week at the Chelsea Flower Show there are thousands of gardeners admiring out of season daffodil blooms in the show gardens and floral exhibits.In order to get their daffodils blooming at this time of year, growers force the bulbs to grow using

my photograph of the display as a reminder that, come this autumn, I need to buy yet another huge sack of daffodils. Maybe we don't all have the space they do at Wisley, but naturalised bulbs like this look stunning beneath smaller trees - even shrubs

where there is no risk of flooding, the extent of the damage to my house and garden is incredible. My current pride and joy (as it is every March) is the display of daffodils on the drive leading up to my house. The rain and wind have flattened my daffs

it is unlucky in that its flowering coincides with the flowering of daffodils and by that time I have had enough of yellow.I adore tulips. The photograph above, by the way, is of a species of tulip called tarda and is there, not because it is ugly but because

by the time May comes along I am sick to the back teeth of ruddy yellow. We have been flooded by daffodils in every shape - short, tall, fat, thin etc - but every single one is yellow (yes, I know that some are creamy white but they are still tainted

are fattening, the earliest pussies are appearing on the willows (faintly interesting fact: in the Sound of Music, Marta - one of the cute kiddies - chooses pussy willow as one of her favourite things) and daffodils are pushing relentlessly upwards. I am not so

colour, from frilly-knicker-pink and daffodil yellow, to navy blue ruffs and watery marmalade. Some seek to combine all the colours of an ice-cream shop in one flower - which I think is a bit of an insult to a noble stalwart. Personally, I prefer