iv: Our Man in the Field
David Hughes meets Fiona Inglis
‘Bees in the walls,’ I repeat, somewhat aghast… Yes. Colonies of feral honeybees. The south-facing wall of the garden is hollow; the Victorians heated the wall with a coal furnace to retain heat for the fruit trees that would have grown espaliered across them. It’s fascinating to imagine how much honeycomb is inside there. We need to get a camera in and have a look… I’m at Pyrus, a flower farm nestled in an historic walled garden, just south of Pencaitland. It’s a beautiful, captivating and, dare I say, romantic spot— with a long, wooded drive leading to a garden with the just the right amount of dapple to make me feel at home. I’m spending the afternoon wandering the beds, cooing at the flowers tended by the proprietor— talented florist and grower, Fiona Inglis —who’s spilling the tea on all things floral… We grow flowers for our own creative practise, as well as for florists and wholesalers, and we’ve recently started a direct retail side to the business. Prior
to Covid, much of our work was events and weddings, so we’ve pivoted into flower subscriptions— which has actually been a really beautiful thing to do. A series of deliveries over a threemonth period is allowing us to share the changes in season— this is reigniting a fundamental love of flowers, and we’re really getting to share in the joy. Especially with the lockdown, when people weren't able to see their loved ones, the subscriptions seem to serve as a reminder that people are still thinking about them. Meandering through the beds, my attention is drawn to the robust architecture of a row of deep-green plants with envy-inducing, pinkfringed buds, swelled to near bursting: These are our Peonies. The massproduced ones that come in from the Netherlands don't even compare. These are much bigger and more robust— practically the size of your face!
