August musings - notes from the garden
The end of August is rushing in, and with it comes the ever so slight hint of Autumn already. The air is cooling (thank goodness!), the blackberries are in full swing, leaves are falling already and the squash are swelling quickly each day, almost ready for harvesting. My vegetable harvests are still going strong but things are definitely slowing down and while I’ve sown some winter veg, I’ve lost a lot to caterpillars and the hot elements this season, something that has left me feeling despondent and wondering if the allotment is a stretch too much at the moment with everything else I have going on in life. It’s a weird and somewhat upsetting mind set to be in. The allotment is what started me on this incredible journey. It shifted my perspective, my lifestyle, what I want from life and my goals. But perhaps this was it’s purpose. Perhaps this wasn’t meant to be the ‘keeper’ growing space. Perhaps it was a stepping stone, a spring board onto this path that has brought me into this growing community and led me to things I had never even imagined. The thought of giving up my allotment is deeply saddening, it feels like I might lose a part of me, my happiest of places. But at the same time, the pressure of maintaining it is making me feel anxious and stressed and that just simply isn’t fun. So I’m continuing to mull over the possibility of letting it go and moving my veg growing to the back garden on a smaller, more manageable scale whilst carrying on with some of my favourite growing tasks as the seasons shift.
I find myself excited for the Autumn - my favourite season. Fresh, crisp air caressing my face as the sun shines with a lingering warmth. I love the feeling of wrapping up warmly for an autumnal walk, kicking the leaves on the ground and collecting browning bracken for dried flower arrangements. It’s not that I hate the summer, but quite frankly, it has just been too hot for me this year! There is something about the cooler September and October weather that I just love. Things winding down into a more cosy rhythm, but also the start of the growing cycle begins again in a slower pace. There’s garlic to be planted, onions to sow, flowers to start off and the space and time to do much needed structural or maintenance work in the garden and community growing space. This is the time when I start to plan my beds and the next season’s growing. The joyous jigsaw puzzle of trying to fit everything I want to grow into my space. A clean slate.
I’m collecting seeds to save on a daily basis now, a task that always brings me joy and peace. I find the monotonous harvest of seed pods and seeds the most mindful activity - carefully cracking the pods open to reveal the promise of new growth when the time is right. Slowly releasing seeds from the flower seed heads, catching them as they separate and fall, sorting them into colourful tins that I have lovingly collected from antiques shops, vintage stores and car boot sales. I’m learning more each year about seed saving and how this supports the cyclical processes in my own bid to support food sovereignty and security. Seeds are such a crucial resource for the security of our food and as I collect the seeds from my produce this year to share with friends and family and the local community, I think of the abhorrent attack on the Hebron seed bank - demolishing the future of so many people.
As I finish writing these ramblings of thoughts that cascade from my mind, the rain is beginning to hammer on the window, proclaiming it’s arrival with a welcome drumming on the glass. It has rained for a good few hours for the past 3 days now and you can almost hear the collective sigh of relief from land workers around the country. This has been the most difficult, driest growing season I have ever experienced and I only grow on a relatively small scale. Looking at the weather forecast for the next week I see rain forecast every day and I am so grateful that we will now have some relief from this intense heat and drought that has scorched the earth and cracked the ground so deeply. Farmers and growers can take a breath and let the rain soak into the earth and begin to restore it as we move into the next season.