A daisy by any other name….

My grandfather, a coal miner from Yorkshire, used to sing this song to my sister and me:

Daisy, Daisy, Give me your answer, do. I’m half crazy all for the love of you. It won’t be a stylish marriage, ’cause I can’t afford a carriage. But you’ll look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle built for two!

My young brain was imprinted on daisies and they have long been one of my favorite wildflowers. BUT perhaps what I loved was not a daisy! Horrors! As I have roamed the neighborhood, I’ve snapped these photos of delightful ‘daisies.’ My PictureThis app has corrected all my misconceptions. Kind of.

I still think the purple coneflower should be called a white cone flower. And whether or not they’re daisies, I love ’em all!