For paradise in winter you can't beat a muddy allotment - it beats the beach. Really.
For some, paradise is sunning themselves on some exotic beach – complete with sparkling seas, palm trees and a cooling cocktail or two. For others, it’s skiing down immaculate powdery slopes and breathing in crisp mountain air. For me, though, paradise is working on a muddy patch of ground beside a railway line – even when it’s a cold January day and my feet feel as if they’re turning into blocks of ice.
Yes, it’s my allotment.
They may not be glamorous, but allotments have a tranquil atmosphere that is all their own. They exude an air of peaceful purpose. The other day, even though it was cold and damp, our site was full of people quietly harvesting Brussels sprouts and tidying up their sheds. There’s always something to do – and there always seem to be birds around to watch you do it. Last Sunday we spotted two robins watching us beadily - no doubt hoping that we’d start digging and unearth a few juicy worms - and a brilliant green parakeet (one of a large flock that now lives in our local park).
In fact the allotment is a great place to observe wildlife. There are fewer crows at the moment – but no doubt they’ll appear again in the Spring. One, on our site, has learned to jump on the arm of the ballcock (which controls the flow of water to the tanks). When he jumps on, fresh water gushes from the tap – which he drinks enthusiastically. You don’t see that on the beach.
