Daffodils normally raise our spirits in April but this year, after a mild winter, many were in flower in March.

"Daffs" bloom in their hundreds in woodland at Parcevall Hall, near Appletreewick, where the original bulbs were introduced in a curious way.

Sir William Milner, who had the grounds laid out 70 years ago, mustered everyone who might help. Among them was an upholsterer who had arrived at the hall to cover some chairs. Sir William filled a large sack with daffodil bulbs, tied the neck loosely, then walked through an orchard, swinging the sack about his head.

The bulbs flew out and wherever they landed they must be planted, except those that remained in the trees. The gardens of an imposing hall, which is leased to Bradford Diocese as a retreat and conference centre, are open to public inspection from Easter to October. (Several hundred rose bushes, arranged in formal beds, will sustain the colourful show this summer).

Mention daffodils to me, and I think of a lady who wrote some enchanting books with Dales settings. Dorothy Una Ratcliffe, who became Mrs McGrigor Phillips, bought Acorn Bank, at Temple Sowerby, to the north of Appleby, and she planted no fewer than 60,000 daffodil bulbs.

She gave her home, a redstone mansion, to the National Trust in 1950 and the garden and grounds are "open to view" until the end of October. Near the gateway to the drive leading to the house is a Wellingtonia, an immense tree with a soft bark. Some knowing visitors impress their friends by thumping it - and remaining unscathed.

Over 60 varieties of daffodils and narcissi grow among the trees at the back of the house, where the view takes in one of the lesser viaducts of the Settle-Carlisle railway and the northern Pennines.

DR, as she was known to her friends, collected "antique" varieties, some dating back to the early part of last century. Among them were daffodils with fluted corona. Others sport double flowers.

When, many years ago, I chatted with Malcolm Hutcheson, the regional head gardener for the National Trust, he mentioned that modern varieties of daffodils tend to have brighter colours than the older types, such as can be seen at Acorn Bank. He also showed me what has become the largest collection of medicinal and culinary plants in the North.

A circular woodland walk runs beside Crowdundle Beck to a water-mill which is in the course of being restored. The mill, unlike the big house, is open to the public. DR, the daughter of a Yorkshireman, was born in Sussex but regarded the White Rose county as home. In 1909 she married Charles Frederick Ratcliffe, nephew of Lord Brotherton of Wakefield, hence the name Brotherton Library for her gift to Leeds University.

Her marriage did not last; in 1932, after a divorce, she became the wife of Captain Noel Phillips, of Cobham, Surrey. They frequently left Acorn Bank, their home, to spend time in the Yorkshire Dales, using a caravan as their base. He died during the 1939-45 war as a consequence of kidney damage sustained in the Great War.

Many of her 49 books are illustrated in line by the Wensleydale artist, Fred Lawson. Some of her poems are dedicated, with love, to Noel Phillips.

When I last visited Lotherton Hall, east of Leeds, which is "open to view" and contains many fine works of art, I saw a painting of young DR which brightened up the room in which it was displayed. She was at the peak of her beauty in the 1920s.

Here's an example of her Dales verse:

Rain is fairly sheeting down

Sithee, Lad, ahead

A little wood of oak an' ash,

That'll meet our need

Let's stay in it

an' have a bit an' sup

Today I'm sure

'at t'weather'll not pick up.

Many years ago, I prepared for the press a DR book called The Cranesbill Caravan. The author died in 1967. You may enter her enchanting world through her books, which may be found adorning the shelves of good second-hand bookshops.

Incidentally, if you would seek Wordsworth's host of golden daffodils, visit the western shoreline of Ullswater. The Poet's "daff" is the small, wild variety (Narcissus pseudo narcissus), usually a woodlander.

A shaft of April sunlight, as searching as a theatrical arc-light, picks out the wild daffodil against the browns and sepias of last year's leaf litter.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.