June 24

Everything is growing so quickly on the croft. The grass is growing quicker than the cows can eat and we have our first glut of the year with an abundance of lettuce in the polytunnel.

Our lives have accelerated in pace with the growth around and there is an accompanying abundance of busyness on the croft.  Peas and beans need tying, young tomato plants pinching, seedlings planting and distributing to friends. The bracken is also growing and needs pulling, slashing or rolling before the cows do their job of trampling the rhizomes. It’s a fantastic time of year but it’s manic in its intensity. The days rush by and I suddenly realise I haven’t seen  friends for weeks (particularly ones that also grow vegetables).

We are enjoying our polycrub immensely (thank you Gary Burton for your work in putting up if you are reading) and the change to the growing season and range it brings. We have been eating strawberries for weeks now and the peach tree and grape vines in there are thriving. It will be very interesting to see if we actually get any peaches or grapes. The cherry didn’t fare so well, despite all my research on Scottish polytunnel cherry trees, and it has been moved back outside where it visibly looks to be having its own sigh of relief as it recovers from its scorched and wilted leaves.

It is the time of year for change and our working lives are also changing. Alasdair has a new job as a rainforest adviser and I have handed in my notice at the university. This means both of us can dedicate more time to the croft – which always repays us twofold in the work we put in (even if not financially).   At the moment, I think we both feel we could quite happily dedicate all our time just to growing vegetables. It gives us such pleasure. After a sunny day digging muck into beds and putting a fence around some newly planted trees we sat in the polycrub at sunset contemplating why this is. It isn’t just about providing food for oneself and others – although this is in itself fantastic. There is something more fundamental to it than that. People talk about having a connection to the land but this sounds vague and non-descript. We are all connected to the land, whether we like it or not, because that’s where the food we eat comes from (or should come from).  

We decided that it is something about the care and attention one gives that makes growing fruit and vegetables, flowers and trees, so pleasurable. It’s lovely being outside for a whole day, hearing the insects, the cuckoos, the cows munching grass, but seeing the immediate effects of one’s own care and devotion is particularly special. Every day as you water, you notice which plants are thriving and which are not and you make a mental note, (sometimes consciously, sometimes not), of what each plant likes and doesn’t. Every year we learn small, albeit simple, lessons;  if you water too late in the evening it brings out the slugs (and midges); some plants do just as well (if not better) if you stick the seeds straight in the ground instead of propagating; rocket will grow back thicker each year but also spicier (turning into pesto takes the spice out); chamomile and calendula will spread through your whole garden, but they both make glorious, glorious weeds.

Each year will always be different, there are so many factors; the weather, the soil, the seeds, small decisions we make and random events (we’ve already had a white current  suddenly decimated by caterpillars in a way that has never happened before). It is a constant learning curve where there is a direct correlation between being mindful and responsive, how many hours you put in, a good yearly routine, and what ends up on your plate.