I returned to my allotment for the first time in a little while. Things have been busy, and so, it would seem, have the wildflowers. There’s always a little pang of guilt when when I compare our own plot with some of the others. However, I just love how alive our patch gets at the beginning of spring. Last year’s bolted broccoli erupts in clouds of yellow blossom. Red campion calls out confidently with its bright pink splashes. Comfrey climbs towards the sky, and all manner of smaller, meeker flowers scatter themselves under the cover of fruit bushes.
The bees, butterflies and other pollinators are having a wonderful time, hopping and bumbling from one flower to the next, sampling the nectar like real-ale connoisseurs at a beer festival. I could stay here all day, just watching and listening. Feeling at peace with the humming micro-ecosystem. Unfortunately, if I don’t do some weeding, we’ll have no harvest, and we’ll be overrun by nettles.
So, with a happy disposition, I set to work, kneeling next to a fragrant cloud of fennel fronds. I don’t even mind the nettle stings. I’ve come to view them as chilli-peppers for the skin. It’s a funny thing that mindfulness can do. I used to see the experience as a painful annoyance to avoid at all costs. Now I look down at the swollen lumps about my forearms and simply look forward to the tingling sensation I’ll have for the rest of the day and into the evening.
Blog-share
Let me know in the comments what adventures you’ve been up to. Have you been out in nature? What it’s like where you are? Put a link to your latest blog post so we can share our experiences.
Newsletter: About nature, mindfulness and happiness
Want to come for a walk? Join me as I explore the natural world and describe to you the fascinating things I find.
Slow down, escape your troubles, and let me whisk you away to somewhere calm…
Leave a Reply