I remember the first time I walked into the RHS Lindley Library. It was cold, so it must have been winter, and the trees of London’s Vincent Square were playing with the light through the building’s tall windows. I felt woefully out of place walking over that beautiful mosaic floor, but the librarians just smiled and nodded towards the entrance.
I was there. And there it was on a shelf, neatly filed with its Dewey system sticker. I was researching my own book at the time, looking at how different generations came to find their own way to plants, while exploring my own nascent fascination with them. I was done with Whittingham’s excellent book within a few days, but I returned to Vincent Square to research and then write in the months that followed. Fast-forward a few years and a copy of my own book appeared in the Lindley Library, back where it began.
