Natur Cymru Natur Cymru

St David’s day is here again, and many of us will wear with pride a daffodil pinned to our lapel. It may be a plastic imitation bought in a garage, or a real flower picked from a garden. How many of us will link this emblem of nationhood with the wild daffodil of the woods and fields of Wales? To most of us, the daffodil is that ubiquitous garden flower, bred in great number and variety largely in Holland, which has been planted on so many roadsides and roundabouts.

 

Nature and culture are closely intertwined, so perhaps it is the wild daffodil that we should restore to our highways and byways. St David would have been familiar only with the bright yellow trumpets of the wild daffodil, a symbol of the season of hope and new beginnings. As we honour him, perhaps we should honour, too, the wild daffodil, which has fared so badly here and throughout its restricted world range, as Ray Woods reports elsewhere in this issue.

 

The wild daffodil is neither a strict woodland dweller, nor a flower of the field, but enjoys the nether-land between woods and meadows, a dappled mix of light and shade. Like Nature, the daffodil does not like to be constrained or categorised: a good emblem indeed.

 

The forest was once a place where all habitats could be found; meadows and bogs, heaths and scrub, wetlands and glades were all part of the meaning of the term forest. It is only in recent times, since land management has become primarily determined by grants, that land has got to be one thing or the other: if a wood, it must be fenced and regenerate naturally or be planted up to achieve sufficient timber production; if the trees are grazed, then this must continue if the land is to count for livestock payments.

 

It is time to soften these harsh demarcation lines, as several articles in this issue argue. Trees and woodlands should be linked to provide a natural framework for our lives in a beautiful, modern country. Planting trees from locally-collected seed is part of the story; so is re-integrating farming and forestry, and establishing woodland networks and corridors, into which wild daffodils may once more spread. We should not forget the valuable role that big beasts can play in the ecology of our forests. Perhaps that should include another symbol of nationhood, which we feature in this issue. Did someone say ‘bring back dragons?’