Two days from the start of spring and I am itching to sow and grow. Bags and packets of seed are calling impatiently. But as I write, we are still unsure when we’ll be paroled to the plot. Perhaps longer than the three-month sentence we’d hoped for.
I thought, then, to take time to look back this week on what I’ve missed most about communal gardening. Is it the in-the-distance company of other growers, perhaps picking their runner beans? Maybe Mary’s giant sunflowers and perfect poppies? The early-morning thrill of kestrels and foxes, the scent of another neighbour’s sweet peas?
