In a meditative moment I can literally smell the unmistakable fragrances of the orchids, feel the the nearly overwhelming sensuality of it, almost as though the place is somehow weaved into my spiritual DNA, if there is such a thing. It has been said that it is these delmore influences, ones that leave such a lasting impression that shape us, to a much greater degree than we might like. One I have devoted unknown hours to over the last twenty years, becoming known as a human encyclopedia of orchid information. Greatly influenced as a child by an avid horticulturist, my grandmother Christalle Merriweather, the family matriarch, I am owned by memories of seemingly endless days spent by her side in the flower beds and greenhouses on her estate in new England, sitting beside her as she tended her flower beds, or bantering about in this wonderland of the senses with my playmates. People who know me often stand in amazement at my dedication to my Orchids, and I in turn am often equally dumbfounded by their lack of interest in my avocation.

Their apparent inability to see the startling beauty and sense the mystery of one of the most incredible flowering plants on the globe is nearly beyond my ability to comprehend.