An English Allotment in Summer
There is something very curious and alluring about allotments; little patches of land, often squished into odd enclosures between houses, factories and railways, each sub-divided further into individual plots, each of which becomes, in effect, a personal fiefdom for its tenant to plough, sow, germinate, fertilise, water, nurture and reap, each according to their own whim. These little patches of land form a loose community right amongst the geographically close but socially distant communities that surround them.
It felt like a different world. No – a distant time. Things still progressed with the seasons here. There was a sense (real or imaginary) that many allotment holders were as attached to the ideal as they were to the pleasures of reaping the reward for their labours, and obvious evidence that Messrs. Sainsbury and Tesco (and their ilk) were never going to see a markup on any of this organic produce.
These are just a few of the photos I took during my visit, all of which have been cropped and simply edited with a nostalgic colour cast. I hope to visit again during each season…