ALLOTMENT GARDENING

One of the things I love about allotmenting is the way that, every time I go there, I feel as though I’m going to find something new. It has a life of its own that carries on when I’m away. Part of that is due to the snails and other pests, which might be stripping chunks out of my plants, making the successes less likely. Allotmenting has numerous hidden pests and weeds. But there;s not only pests and weeds – there’s also a chance to grow something substantial from a tiny dot. Out of a small packet of seeds you can grow months and months of food.

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I’m hooked by that slow growth, away from anything to do with work or noise, all outside and just growing plants. People always a bit muddy, growing vegetables, growing flowers, and nothing much else. Aside from the weeds, pests and weather.

“Better than any argument is to rise at dawn and pick dew-wet red berries in a cup”, a quote from Wendall Berry, is a good thing to remember when feeling angry or overwhelmed. It’s about being able to appreciate something delicious. It celebrates a basic thought, the fact that tasty things exist outside of whatever I’ve got to deal with.

Think how much any allotment, any plot, is changed through the seasons and through the different plot holders – plants, debris, animals, things that wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for me. Shared land. Some of us are skilled at working the land, some not so much, but we all enjoy being part of it – and we take part of it back with us. And each spindly seedling we put in the ground expands and grows, making us feel like this is our own homegrown piece of the world. That is the potential of gardening.

Looking at it this way, our allotments – and especially the persistent plants, the fixed structures, the out of control bindweed – has a nice history behind it. For example, I was intrigued by a headstone that leans against my neighbours apple tree. I saw that the name engraved on it is the same as my boyfriend’s brother-in-law, that this part of the world is very small. And that there are two things I know: that this man loved this plot enough for his headstone to be put here, and that the apple tree he planted is still going strong. And that the fir tree he planted in considered, by some, to be taking up space.

I’m not used to thinking about how we influence the land. I don’t usually think that if I put something in the ground, it can go down generations in terms of consequences. But it strikes me that this is true – and it’s strange to see that in front of me. When the current plot holder goes, will this man’s headstone remain? Will this plot belong to him forever? Or will more headstones be placed there each time a plot holder dies? Put like this I can really see that I have a responsibility to the next plot holder. I want them to love this piece of land as much as I do.

Gardening is about change. There shouldn’t be the assumption that you know ahead of time exactly what will grow. When you start to grow things on your plot, you’ll begin to see that there’s something before, perhaps dormant for years, or something permanent that can’t be gotten rid off. On the one hand you are limited by the constraints of the soil, but on the other hand you have a whole bit of land to call your own.