The camellias in the Pazo of Santa Cruz de Ribadulla, gently wrapped in the cellophane-mist, which is so typical of their home, are not merely illustrious, but illustrative. Illustrious for their antiquity, and because of their close links with the household. Illustrative because, even when their bloom begins to fade, their paper-like texture which feels like old silk even after their season is over, must have accompanied the famed writer and politician Jovellanos, as they lay inert on the very same stone table on which the great man drafted some of his most thoughtful essays.
But Jovellanos missed the best of the camellia season as it was already mid April, and most of the flowers had already died; the delicate blooms lay scattered everywhere, face up, expired yet perfectly formed.
