2020 Covid-19 Memories
Rose Pipes, Inverleith
‘How do I love thee? Let me count the ways’.
This first line of a sonnet by Elizabeth Barrett Browning keeps coming into my head when I think of what the allotment has meant to me since lockdown began in March. Quite simply, it has been a loved companion, providing food for the table as well as the soul, and opportunities for indulging in creative bodgery (e.g. repairing dilapidated compost bins), as well as much-needed exercise and an outlet for frustration. The fresh air, fine views and the companionship of fellow plotters were, and still are, a source of deep pleasure. How fortunate we all are to have these patches of greenery and growth to console us in such exceptional times.
This first line of a sonnet by Elizabeth Barrett Browning keeps coming into my head when I think of what the allotment has meant to me since lockdown began in March. Quite simply, it has been a loved companion, providing food for the table as well as the soul, and opportunities for indulging in creative bodgery (e.g. repairing dilapidated compost bins), as well as much-needed exercise and an outlet for frustration. The fresh air, fine views and the companionship of fellow plotters were, and still are, a source of deep pleasure. How fortunate we all are to have these patches of greenery and growth to console us in such exceptional times.