Thinning, trimming, hoeing and raking, trying to clear some space…The equinox is over. I am ambushed by the swift shift to a darker damp. As ever, I am unprepared. One minute: abundance, never-ending largesse. The next: quick collapse.First, the old sweet pea ‘tipi’: hazel home to morning glory and a rampant Ukrainian courgette vine. The tent’s crashed. Crushed. Sticks snapped by the squash. Continue reading…
Source : theguardian.com
Read more…Harvest season is over on the allotment, but there is still much to do
