As is now tradition, I left home once more. We went to Greencombe Gardens in Porlock, Somerset to admire and learn about erythroniums (this being their prime season) while having fun and enjoying ourselves for the day. Coleridge had an addiction to heroin; nonetheless he managed to write poetry that even Charles has enjoyed such as The Rime of the Ancient Mariner (my favourite poem by him).
But we weren’t there to visit Coleridge or get any opium; rather we were there for flowers – specifically, erythronium fans like us who cultivate some in a small coppice for spring pleasure: something only us know how to appreciate because our office doesn’t open until later than most businesses! Even better for us is Charles planting one hundred Pagoda Erythronium every year since some 30 years now in our woods; their beauty never ceases to amaze and delight.
