From our perspective as plants, reproduction is our primary purpose, and we have evolved two primary strategies to ensure our legacy: sexual reproduction via seeds and asexual reproduction via bulbs. The daffodil bulb you plant is essentially a clone of its parent, a perfect genetic replica that allows our kind to spread reliably and quickly in a favorable location. Producing seeds, however, is a gamble on genetic diversity. It is the result of a successful pollination event, combining genetic material from two different daffodil plants to create something entirely new.
Creating seeds is an immense energetic cost for us. After our flowers are pollinated, we must divert precious resources away from storing energy in our bulbs to instead develop the seed pod. This process weakens the bulb for the following growing season, often resulting in fewer or no flowers the next year. The seeds themselves require a full package of nutrients and a protective coat to give the embryo any chance of survival. This is a long-term strategy, not a quick path to more blooms.
For a daffodil seed, life is a test of extreme patience and fortune. Unlike a bulb that is already a stored, complete plant ready to grow, a seed is an embryo that requires very specific conditions to break dormancy. They often need a period of cold stratification (a模拟 winter) to even consider germinating. Once sprouted, the seedling will spend the next three to five years photosynthesizing and building its own tiny, first-year bulb. It will not flower during this entire juvenile period. Most seedlings will perish due to competition, weather, or poor soil conditions before ever reaching maturity.
This is the core of the question. The bulb offers predictability. When you plant a bulb of 'King Alfred' or 'Tête-à-Tête', you know exactly the flower form, color, and size you will get. It is a guaranteed result. A seed offers mystery. The resulting plant could be a stunning new variety with unique characteristics, a pleasant surprise, or it could be a mediocre, small-flowered daffodil that is not horticulturally remarkable. The genetic recombination is a lottery ticket for evolution, allowing our species to adapt to changing environments over centuries.
For the gardener seeking immediate, reliable, and identical blooms, the answer is a clear no. Propagating from bulbs is faster, easier, and guarantees the desired traits. For us, the daffodils, it is how we quickly colonize a garden. However, for the patient horticulturist or breeder fascinated by genetics and the potential for creating something new, saving seeds is absolutely worth it. It is a long-term project that contributes to the vast genetic diversity of our species. It is how new cultivars are born. Therefore, the value is not in efficiency but in potential. You are not just growing a flower; you are participating in the slow, ancient art of evolution itself.
