Don't be a sap

My local woodlands are surging into growth as I write this, at the equinox. Enough warmth has filtered through to the forest floor to catalyse the primroses into action, and they are now in good flower (this is Devon, after all). And the squeaky- shiny leaves of the bluebell, our nation's favourite flower, are a promise of things to come. But one of my favourite woodlanders, the humble wood spurge (Euphorbia amygdaloides), is an altogether more subdued beauty, but worth every effort to search out.

This spurge goes through an extraordinary metamorphosis at this time of year, as the first buds are thinking about breaking on woody boughs overhead. For the whole of winter, the spurge sits as a spindly bush, its dusty and jaded leaves reddened by the winter chill. And then the transformation takes place: the tips of the shoots expand, burgeoning into defiant fists of vibrant chartreuse and golden flowers, each with the remarkable floral structure that is unique to the spurges.

For the botanist, it is not just a beautiful thing in its own right, but also an indicator of other goodies that might be lurking nearby, for it flourishes best where woodland management has taken place, allowing light to reach the woodland floor, and where scuffing the leaf litter provides earthy niches into which a variety of beautiful woodlanders can seed.

It also makes a great garden plant, along with many of its more showy cousins: but first a word of warning. Like all spurges, its broken stems positively gush with a thick latex that looks rather like condensed milk. But sweet it is not, for sap wiped into the eye causes intense pain and temporary blindness until its caustic nature is neutralised by medication. I haven't met first-hand sufferers of such a fate, but on tours and the like I do warn attendees of this lurking danger. Imagine my surprise when one lady announced that her husband had suffered in much the same way "after getting the juice on his willy". When I added this anecdote to my repartee, a member of the illustrious International Dendrology Society – quite the smartest horticultural outfit going, Coutts bank customers preferred - confessed that her husband had befallen exactly the same fate. The mind boggles!

But saps and juices aside, don't be put off growing wood spurge in the garden; just handle it with care. It's pretty easy to please, doing well in most semi-shaded spots, but this euphorbia does best in a moisture retentive, yet well-drained and relatively fertile soil, though will tolerate poorer and drier conditions. A number of varieties are worth considering. There is a variegated form less than imaginatively called 'Variegata' that is both miffy and difficult to obtain, so is probably one to avoid unless you are truly dedicated to the genus. Look instead for the rich red-purple leaved variety 'Purpurea', whose glowing golden flowers sit atop burnt red-purple foliage, like gold bling on a sunbed-tanned body: not to everyone's taste amongst humans, but an absolute winning flower-foliage combination in a spurge. It is a gentle seeder when happy, and fortuitously its youngsters sport the same richly-coloured foliage. Search out, too, some of the hybrids, such as E. x martinii, and its recent selections such 'Ascot Rainbow' and 'Helena's Blush', plus the closely related 'Blackbird' and 'Redwing'. These crossings combine shade tolerance and the red foliage of the native plant, with a stronger clump-forming habitat and more flower power, courtesy of the Mediterranean Euphorbia characias.

Alternatively, take yourself off to the local woodland over the coming month, and soak in the displays of wood spurge, primrose, violets and greater stitchwort, and remind yourself just how good our own spring woodlands can be in full flight.