3194. The winning camellia © Bruce Goodman 3 May 2025

Adolphus had inherited his mother’s green fingers. His garden was an absolute picture. He was one of those gardeners who could create a riot of extravagant colour and make it appear that Mother Nature had done all the work. His pride and joy were his camellias. He had every shade of pink scattered throughout his garden. They didn’t flower at the same time but were carefully staggered for a long flowering season. There was someone coming in at night with secateurs and pinching flowers. He suspected it was the old lady, Dulcie-Mae, who lived down the road. He had no proof. He put barbed wire fencing around his favourite camellia. That should deter any thief. At least for the local flower competition next week his prize camellia would be safe. Adolphus year after year had won the Camellia Section of the local Flower Festival. This year it was different. The winning camellia was Dulcie-Mae’s. She accepted the trophy with a bandaged hand. Contact Author Back to Index Next Story Previous Story