Seasons Change at The Allotment

The allotment has an autumnal feel about it now.

Fruit trees 

that a few months ago were dripping with blossom

are now heavily laden

  with fruit, 

their branches drooping beneath the weight of apples

and pears.

Teasels and 

 yellow-headed Sunflowers

 have grown tall 

along the winding brick edged path

and beside the French beans 

 climbing their hazel wigwam.

Yellow and orange flowered Calendula

 planted in amongst the vegetables create a vivid splash of colour, like the Nasturtiums that tumble and trail over the narrow paths at the top of the plot 

alongside the scented herbs Rosemary, Fennel, Dill, and Lovage.

The beautiful creeping thyme,

on either side of the path,

 – much loved by the bees (and home to a little frog), thrived in the hot sun and so has fully recovered from the harsh winter weather at the start of the year.

Sweet peas still carry their blooms

 as they climb the willow and hazel supports

 and opium poppies 

have grown randomly

 in the herb beds.

Pumpkins and gourds are forming, 

although their large leaves do not compete with the huge leaves still borne by the rhubarb.

The harvest of blackcurrants and gooseberries was early this year – a bountiful crop of the tastiest fruit, little of which made it home, but was instead picked and eaten immediately on the spot. 

Recently planted autumn raspberry canes have already produced large berries that are on the verge of ripening.

At the bottom of the sloping plot,

rosehips and jewel coloured berries of Hawthorne and Elder provide a veritable feast for the dozens of small birds flitting from branch to branch in the hedge and twittering ceaselessly.

The allotment site is enclosed on three sides by land that once formed part of an old country estate 

and the majestic ancient trees remain a haven for wildlife.

During the summer, we heard the high-pitched calls of a family of buzzards nesting in the trees and watched them as they soared effortlessly through the trees and over the plots.

The old trees are also home to a bat colony and at dusk, the bats can be seen flying out from the trees and along the corridor of the laneway. 

At the end of the allotment site on the other side of the mature trees where the bats roost is a little park also owned by the council. A short while ago the council leased the park for use as a BMX track and the infuriating constant bang of bikes as they hit the ramp has caused a noise nuisance similar to the sound of a Crow Scarer and is a disturbance of the peace and tranquillity usually found at the allotments.

Sadly, the tranquillity and harmony with nature that has thrived for so many years at our allotment site is now under even more threat as the Council announced their intention to overhaul the allotment site.

Existing plot holders have been displaced and the plots and hedges at the entrance to the site have already been flattened. 

The council is now preparing to cut down the trees and hedges.

There are also ominous rumblings that as well as replacing the plot boundary fences with standard green mesh,

and the grass laneways with aggregate,

the hawthorn hedge that runs along the railway embankment at the bottom of my plot is going to “be addressed”. The response to my query as to what this entailed was vague, so I am unclear as to what further catastrophes await this wildlife friendly site.

xxx

The Flowerer of Linen

It was quite by accident that one sultry hazy afternoon, driving along a narrow road through green rounded drumlins, almost at the bottom of the Peninsular, near the 8-acre sandy beach of Knockinelder, that I stumbled upon an idyllic village,

hidden in the middle of nowhere and seemingly frozen in time.

Intrigued, wondering at first if I was trespassing, I ventured through a gateway, and came to a white-washed building where a discreet sign showed it to be a visitor's centre.

A tiny square window was set deep into the thick wall, through which a dim light filtered through the pane of glass bespattered with salty spray blown by the wind from the nearby sea. As my eyes adjusted from the contrasting bright sunshine outside to the shadowy interior light, I could just make out boards mounted upon the old stone walls that shed enlightenment on the history of this hitherto unknown place.

Once a former 19th Century traditional fishing village - this small settlement had fallen into a state of disrepair but has now been restored and preserved based on a plan as shown on the 1834 Ordnance Survey map.

Fishing was the main occupation of the men of the village, whilst the women carried out embroidery work. However one unusual fishing boat known as the "She-Cruiser", was crewed entirely by women of the village. A woman named Mary-Ann Doonan captained the vessel. Born in 1941, she lived until 99 years and served as the village mid-wife, layer out of corpses and Flowerer of Linen.

Leaving the dark little room, and venturing outside into the warm air again, I followed the path down the gently sloping hill to where the sea lay directly ahead, with the beach to the left.

I turned instead to the right,

by the tiny cottage closest to the shore,

and past the stone wall of the garden

belonging to the little cottage,

where a path had been mowed

through flower strewn tall grass

and over a slight hill.

The path led me alongside the shore,

(the mountains just visible in the distance)

through the wild beauty of lichen covered rocks

and coastal grassland studded with wildflowers

and valerian.

The sky was hazy in the intense heat and there was silence apart from the scream of sea-birds soaring high in the air;

the white yacht sailing along the coast-line was the only other sign of human habitation.

I watched the yacht slip smoothly past and tried to visualise "The She-Cruiser" returning to the shore with a catch of fish,

before her Captain and crew returned to their cottages and embroidery work.

As the sky grew hazier and a sea mist rolled in, I turned back towards home, and just as the crew of The Sea-Cruiser may have done, I would resume my latest stitching creation, stitched onto a piece of vintage linen, inspired by my visit last month to the Wildflower Meadows by the Sea, where red Valerian framed the view of

"The Tower and Beacon at Angus Rocks".

Maybe it is audacious to apply the quaint description of "Flowerer of Linen" to myself - as this title would be more deserving for Caroline Zoob or Nicki Franklin, but I rather like this term to describe my stitching.

I am intending upon doing an event later this year with my "Sewing and Soaping", but in the meantime I am still taking a limited number of commissions, so please feel free to contact me through the blog if you would like more details.

xxx