When petals are a passion...

Most of us love pelargoniums, even if we embarrass them by calling them geraniums. Not everyone, however, would take the love of the livid blossom so far as to make it the focus of their social life, and even their dreams.

Yet Basildon Pelargonium fellowship can boast around 40 people who not only grow pelargoniums in abundance, but also cultivate the company and conversation of fellow lovers, not to mention the plants themselves.

Pelargonium fellowships are not common organisations. A scattering of other towns around Britain boast such bodies, but if they were flowers, pelargonium fellowships would be rare orchids kept under lock and key in a secret location.

What, then, is the special lure of the pelargonium for Basildonians? True, it's a delightful plant, but it is also commonplace, easy to grow, and not even that difficult to pronounce once you've taken the plunge.

Dandelions and roses don't have specialist Basildon societies devoted to their worship, so why the pel?

The obvious person to answer that question is the society's life president, Charles Fletcher. Now 87, the retired supermarket area manager suffers problems with his hips.

He remains mentally sprightly and very articulate, but his physical mobility is limited to a shuffle, and he says: "If they operate on me even one more time, I'll just pass away."

Charles moves behind a sophisticated frame device that makes your average Zimmer frame look like a mere back-scratcher. On top of this frame is a tray, handy for holding drinks, paperwork -- and pelargonium pots. "I start work on my pelargoniums and I forget the pain, forget everything," he says. "They brighten life alright."

No amount of physical pain will prevent Charles Fletcher making the regular journey from his living room to the greenhouse he maintains right outside his window. Here sit the different varieties of you-know-whats, row upon row of them.

Charles isn't slow to preach the pelargonium message. "Most plants follow a set pattern, but the wonder of these, when you discover them, is their sheer versatility," he says.

Mere words, though, are hardly necessary. Even before he opens his mouth, the plants themselves have done the job for him.

There they glow, single-blooms, multiple-blooms, tall pelargoniums and short-arse ones, "mosaic" pelargoniums, "angels", "rosebud", "zonal", "stellar." These are plants with charisma, and: "You can never," says Charles, "exhaust the variety."

The pelargonium fellowship was begun by Charles 10 years ago. He was 77, already long retired. "I came to them (pelargoniums) quite late," he says, "but I suppose I'm quite a convivial person -- I was involved with Lions Club International before. When I discovered this enthusiasm, I wanted to find other people around who shared it."

He contacted the British Pelargonium Society to find the address of a south Essex branch. There wasn't one. "So I started one, simple as that," he says.

"And it wasn't long before I found out that there were lots of people like me out there who had just been waiting for something like this to come along."

The members are a mixed bunch, but they all share a conversion experience which made them born-again pelargoniumists, and they are all, to a man and woman, missionaries on behalf of their beloved bloom.

Husband and wife growers Frank and Hazel Kelly own "his and hers" greenhouses.

One greenhouse contains pelargoniums, the other cranesbills (true geraniums). During the day, they resort to their respective greenhouses, where, in Frank's words, they "compete strenuously but lovingly" in preparation for the annual show (held in Holy Trinity church hall in Wickhay).

Each of them pitches for their own favourite. "The blooms last longer on geraniums" says Hazel.

"Yes, but pelargoniums have a wider range of colour," declares Frank. Their debate continues.

In many ways, the pelargonium could be the floral symbol for Basildon. It brightened the old East End, and came out with the pioneers when they settled in the new town. Hence, perhaps, the lingering devotion.

The man perhaps best placed to comment on the power of the pelargonium is Roy Jacklin.

Not only is Roy treasurer of the Basildon fellowship, but also membership of the national society.

"I work as a property manager during the week, but it's pelargoniums that I dream about in my odd leisure moments," says Roy.

Roy uses a phrase that several other members of the fellowship also use when talking about the little plant. "It's as tough as old boots," they say.

Yet oddly enough, in Basildon, pelargoniums don't figure quite so large in the environment for which they are most noted. "This blossom of scarlet was created to brighten dusty courtyards and dirty window ledges in drab, sad industrial towns," wrote O Henry.

"It was God's gift to the humblest of window-boxes."

Outside Charles Fletcher's house, there are no pelargoniums in window-boxes or anywhere else.

The precious flowers are all safely tucked away in his back-garden. Charles may be absorbed in his flowers, but he hasn't been around town for 35 years without knowing the score.

"If I put them out there for five minutes, what do you think would happen to them?" says Mr Fletcher. In Basildon, thieves and vandals are pelargonium fanciers too.

Shared passion - members of the Basildon Pelargonium Fellowship enjoy a social gathering

Pictures: LUAN MARSHALL

Converted for the new archive on 19 November 2001. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.