Let me tell you why I love my allotment – because growing food is only a tiny part of it. I came back from my allotment refreshed again yesterday. Warmed again by the generosity of my neighbours who are always willing to load me up with their surplus veg, with their willingness to chat, where taking the time to chat and to share their stories is normal. In a world of snap judgments and quick snide opinions, it is refreshingly a place without judgment.

So let me tell you about a win-win. The thing that has kept me sane from the start of my environmental awareness. No before that. From when I just enjoyed being outside.

Growing stuff. From the abundant success of my orange pips in jars which grew slowly but surely on windowsills and which filled our outhouse with the most delicious scent and which my mother used to give away as they were taking up too much space.

Yes, I ‘saved’ a lot of wildlife, all those fledglings I should probably have left well alone. But I was mostly an observer, collecting wild grasses, picking wild Blackberries, climbing trees, watching the stars. So, when I moved to London in the late 80’s seeing foxes navigate the city on wildlife corridors left by abandoned railway lines in cities fascinated me.

The natural world was unstoppable, the signs of nature squeezing its way through the concrete and tarmac cracks delighted me. The certainty of a world reclaimed. The evidence of natural resilience in the dandelion growing out of the pavement. It gave me hope as my awareness of the damage we inflict on the world around us grew.

It’s no accident that growing food for myself and my family brings me such satisfaction, the provision of healthful, fresh and chemical-free fruits, salads and winter soups, the connection with the natural world that chemical-free gardening brings.

Stopping to notice lizards, slow worms, shield bugs and butterflies, as well as sharing fruit with birds and foxes, is an everyday ‘mindful’ activity at my allotment.

Apple and blackberry crumble, sweet pop in your mouth cherry tomatoes and some courgettes and beans, these are the literal outputs of my late summer acquired council rented plot of 5 rods. And with the advice and encouragement of my experienced neighbours, I’m confident it will be much more next year.