Week in, week out, I apply my brain, searching in the deepest corner of the grey matter to compose allotment tales in hope you will enjoy them and want to eagerly come back again, to know more of our adventures in our own corner of God’s green earth.

Then earlier this week, someone turned to me and said ‘Gardening, it’s not very creative is it?’ At once I hit a response crossroads, 1) ‘You’ve clearly never put your hand in the brown gold and nurtured a seed only to feed from it months later, or 2) ‘You can have my response to your question in two words which start and end in f’. 

Truth is, he’s a friend, and like most men in that bonding moment, we tend to feel more comfortable offering discouragement rather than encouragement, something us primitive males have been doing since the dawn of time. Don’t get me wrong, most days we’re putting the world to rights discussing the most complex of human issues: the new Star Wars trailer featuring Han Solo, who would win in a fight between Dangermouse and Inspector Gadget, ‘if you say the word lemon over and over again it no longer sounds like lemon’. And, of course, gardening.

In the short time I’ve applied myself to this green world, my creativity has evolved twelvefold. I catch myself looking at the beauty in the simplest of things and how to show it in the best possible way. Fret not, I’m not going to start pulling out the yoga mat and chant until sunset, but there is a growing appreciation inside of me for life and its moments that wasn’t there five years ago. 

From trailing clematis to creating garden arches to bringing colour to the most weather-beaten corner of the allotment, I think it’s fair to say us gardeners encase ourselves in a world of creativity: art, cookery, design, drawings, colour, tastes and smell. We often treat the allotment as an art exhibition as we leisurely stroll from one plot to another assessing, embracing its colourful palette and then reaching our own opinions on the person’s cultivated piece. We read about gardening, write about it and form opinions and tastes. And although we may not be aware of the merry dance we make as we dabble from one source to another, these tapestries all come under the one banner: gardening. 

So the next time you’re out in the pouring rain with trowel in hand, remember, you are the Mozart to your orchestra, create big and create loud. In the meantime I’ve included a few photos from the plot of some of our latest works: ‘The Emerging Spud’, ‘The Caged Brassicas’ and of course, our masterpiece, ‘The Living Polytunnel’.