The month is May almost turning into June but you wouldn’t know, not because of the weather (very un-British of me) because nothing seems to be itself this season. Growth is slow and stunted like some kind of spell has been cast over the plants which extends to people and even mindsets. An air of malaise has been creeping over the caretakers of this little patch of Tottenham for some weeks now, peoples scotch bonnets getting munched, wildflower seeds being dug up by some little mammals, sprout stems snapped with over zealous fox pups has created a feeling of wanting to give up in the majority of plot holders. We all know nature is bigger than us, that it will always do what it sees as best and rebalance itself as it sees fit and with that is a glorious feeling of ‘letting go’. Finding ways to work with and not against, embracing seasons, changeability, indigenous plants that grow where they feel and going with some kind of flow. I cant pretend that’s easy, but growing to nourish yourself has to go beyond a successful crop, its about the toil of back breaking work, the observing of the sights, sounds even smells, knowing that you get to care for a little piece of the earth that will thrive long after you leave and hopefully getting to eat some of the lettuce the slugs didn’t care for.