An afternoon at the allotment.
We’re quite lucky to have our own little garden, it’s not large by any stretch of the imagination but its big enough for a bit of grass, a shed and what will eventually be a raised deck but currently looks more like a deconstructed concrete slab (because that is indeed what it is). The garden is essentially another room of the house and for us it is a place to steal a quiet moment of peace in the chaos of the home and for Poppy, well, another dimension to expand her chaos into. Similarly, allotments are an extension to ones home but rather than being immediately attached to the house, they are usually some distance away. In fact some travel considerably distance to secure a small patch of earth and, particularly if you live in a city, the wait lists for an allotment can be very long. So what’s the big deal and why am I going on about allotments all of a sudden given that I am by no means ‘green fingered’?
Last week we went to visit my Mum who asked if we would like to drop by her allotment to pick up some flowers and an old workbench which will be a slightly rusty ‘gift’ for Lauras dad. I’ve visited before but not had a proper mooch about and on closer inspection I found it incredibly interesting, especially from a photography perspective. My affinity for boring, everyday things has long been an urban-centred activity but wandering around the allotments in this countryside setting, my boring brain was on alert. Seeing the changes between each plot was fascinating, and the personality of whomever is the custodian of a particular patch shone through. Some were meticulously neat, raised beds symmetrically laid along the length of the plot with areas for storage and an expertly constructed hen house. At the other end of the spectrum were the more chaotic examples, I think something was being grown although it was difficult to tell given the amount of overgrown nettles and such. These plots were particularly fascinating as they all had a great selection of ‘things’ laying around, odd bits of wood and guttering. It’s like the drawer that everyone has in their house which holds the radiator bleeding key and those useful bits and pieces that might come in handy one day and are immediately required, mere days after binning them.
Something that most of the plots had in common however was the presence of a shed in some shape or form and these beauties were so great I had to take some ‘portraits’. There were your classic timber sheds, posh steel ones, but the best were the sheds clearly made with whatever was to hand. Patchwork structures of wood, metal and everything in between, it was difficult to tell if they had always been like it or if the array of materials had been added over time.
A poly tunnel, a plastic owl standing guard, a watering can planter atop a post and some serious water storage. Clearly an established plot and some lovely flowers on display. I need to do some more reading about allotment etiquette but it certainly seems like there’s a wide spectrum of upkeep between tenants. At a glance it seems that you need to cultivate a certain amount of the plot at all times and you’re not allowed to sleep on your allotment..the latter is a bit disappointing as it would be a lovely spot to camp out.
The fruits of our (my mums) labour, Poppy seemed to enjoy stomping around inspecting the plants and was very interested in the strawberries but couldn’t understand why they weren’t yet ready to be eaten. Perhaps a good place to teach her some patience (lol). I’m looking forward to going back over the summer to take some more photos and naturally I’m already planning a photo project all about allotment sheds.