The allotments are unusually quiet with many gardeners away. Early in the morning, I find myself here to water the plants and take a leisurely stroll through the site. Occasionally, I greet the young wrens and baby robins as they flutter among the taller plants.
Most days, I bring home a handful of beans, tidy up a bit, and manage the sweet peas. It’s our first year growing sweet peas from seed, and I’ve underestimated their height, spread, and the sheer number of flowers from just two tents. Fortunately, their scent is a favorite of ours.
As this is our first attempt at growing sweet peas from seed, I’m unsure whether we’ll save the seeds for next year. The abundance of this year’s crop feels overwhelming. Additionally, I enjoy browsing the Roger Parsons site for high-scent and vibrant colors. There’s still time to decide.
This year, we’re also growing Nigella, commonly known as “love in the mist,” despite Howard’s disapproval. It’s nestled among the dill, fennel, and near our orange cosmos. We’ve added a new amaranth, and soon we’ll have “spinach red orache” from She Grows Veg, a discovery I made at the Chelsea Flower Show’s great pavilion, which often excites me more than the show gardens.
The morning glory has finally escaped the clutches of birds, snails, and slugs and is happily climbing up its hazel sticks. The sole surviving tear pea now towers over me, and I’ve decided to save all the pods for next summer, though it’s tempting to share at least one with Howard.
Our autumn salad leaves, mostly mustards and other oriental mixes, are small but thriving in small patches. The sunflowers are starting to bloom and have already grown out of reach. I’m eagerly waiting to see their final height and colors, as I’ve lost track of which was planted where after they were attacked at just an inch tall. There’s so much to look forward to.