A world first

A long, long time ago a single sunray struck a small, green and seed-laden plant sat by the side of a verdant lake and changed everything.

Of the many seeds it released that found a patch of earth to germinate in one was different.

When its siblings starting producing their rubbery seedpods instead it unfurled, showing twelve freakishly white 'leaves'; our world's first petals on the very first flower.

Fate can seem cruel; not long after, a falling tree crushed this singular ancestor of so much beauty, but while the weight of the tree sank it into the lake the revolution it had started was already blooming.

Eons later, in the late 1800s, a passionate florist worked under the left arch of the Hellblinghaus in Innsbruck. Despite operating for only two years it was curiously well known & popular.

It is extremely tempting to claim that the cause of its success is hidden in the keystone of that same arch: a tiny fossil of the first ever flower.



  1. Over Christmas in 2017 I found an old box stored in the loft at my Mum's house
  2. Inside, amongst baby photos and first shoes, was a bundle of postcards collected by my late Grandmother, Lucy.
  3. In the 1950s she travelled Europe with her friends through France, Germany, Austria and Switzerland.
  4. Taking photographs wasn't so simple back then so, instead, she collected a postcard from each place she visited.
  5. I knew I wanted to tell the story of Lucy's journey but, sadly, I missed my opportunity to ask her about her youth.
  6. I realised that I still wanted to create something with these mementos; something to tell the story of the journey, even if I coudldn't tell her's;
  7. So, since the beginning of 2018, I've enjoyed writing short stories on these postcards — inspired by where Lucy found them — and sending them to family and friends. I've collected them here, I hope you enjoy them too.