Here at the bach I’ve been planting my summer garden. What a pleasure it is to smell the good earth and feel the crumbly texture as my space turns the sods! I’ve chopped up the seaweed I brought home from the beach last time and have thrown organic sheep pellets into the holes before planting.
Now a cone of bamboo stakes stands ready, guarding a circle of pole-climbing bean seedlings. I’ve pushed manuka stakes deep into the ground, ready to support the tomato plants: Money-maker and Roma. The garden looks odd, and not particularly photogenic: just a piece of earth with stakes rising up at gawky angles, and the baby seedlings hardly visible. A row of dwarf bean seed lies hidden under the earth. But in my imagination the garden is filled with lusty plants that dwarf their supports and produce luscious produce.
Gardening is an act of hope.

And to feed the hope, here is a plate of produce from previous efforts, all ready for dinner.