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  • My allotment is my haven and a retreat but during the last week
    I felt very apprehensive about going to my plot

    The police have been making a forensic search of some of the allotments, because Dave, a friend from the allotment, may have committed a horrendous murder.

    On Wednesday although I did not know if the police had finished their work or not and despite the weather forecast being bad, I felt I needed to go to my plot.

    Pops and I set off on Wednesday in bright sun shine and we pottered down the lanes and allies to the allotments. but as we walked along still in bright sunshine to the north black rain clouds were gathering and then a thunder storm broke streets away from where we were walking. It was so close the forked lightening was followed simultaneously with loud thunder bolt which struck a house just on my right, while we were still walking in sunshine..

    I entered the Hope Cottage gate to the allotments, Pete gave me a cheery greeting as we passed his plot but the other allotments seemed empty, Pops, on the lead as always, was following the scent of a fox as we walked along. She kept trying to veer off the path to track the foxes. I think Pops thinks I have rubber arms and only remembers I have the other end of the lead when her tracking is stopped by me refusing to be hauled through a blackberry thicket.

    Eventually we got to the plot and was greeted by Lindsey and Jenny from the community plot.. Lindsey was surprised that I had come down as the forecast was for heavy rain. As he spoke it began to rain. I opened my shed and made a dash to fill the kettle before the rain became torrential. Pops is very reluctant to go into my shed as she was tied up in one as a puppy, but eventually she came in, fear overcome her dislike of drenching rain! She settled down and ate my lunch while I drank tea.

    When the rain stopped we emerged and I looked round my plot. Although my grass had been cut short only two weeks ago it had grown a foot high the whole plot resembled a wildflower meadow full of pot marigolds, achillia, cransbills, cornflowers, love in the mist, meadow sweet, borage, a swath of bee seeds had produced the most stunning yellow daisies which are in full flower, there were sweet peas, and even the weeds and grass were flowering. It looked so beautiful and tranquil.

    The bumble bees that are nesting in my cold frame were busy foraging for food. A foot from the cold frame borage is growing round my strawberry plants, It was full of bumble bees and solitary bees busy foraging amongst its flowers. The nest of bumble bees is flourishing. I think the borage has saved their lives as even in the rain they can shoot out and collect pollen and nectar and then quickly fly back into the nest before their hairy bodies becomes water logged. if this happens they drop to the ground unable to fly. Wet and on the ground they become chilled and die.

    The sun felt warn and welcoming and I dug up the Royal Duke of York early potatoes . I had six kilos of potatoes to take home. I also picked a bouquet of flowers for my friend Chris. Then the heavens opened again and Pops and I scrambled back in the shed. When the rain eased I decided to set off home. However, before I could pack my rucksack the rain was pounding down again. Jenny from the community plot invited us into the Polytunnel and we took cuttings of lavender, hyssop, and rosemary. Working together this was wonderful a relaxing activity . The rain eased and I decided to go home.

    As Pops and I walked through the plots I was surprised to see my friend Chris was also at her plot. I took the bouquet of flowers I had made to her. She invited me into the shed and with another friend we had a cup of tea and chatted. Five minutes after I went into the shed it begun to hail. Pop with a whimper laid down inside the shed. After the hail storm came more rain with no respite. I decided despite the deluge Pops and I would go home. How much wetter could we get? A lot apparently!

    The streets and lanes we walked down were flooded and we had to paddle in places. Soggy and tired we eventually got home. After towelling down Pops and myself I gave her lunch and some treats and made myself yet another cup of tea.

    When I reflected back on the day at the plot I realised that nature had healed any negitive energies there and the confusion and sadness in me. The rain that drench me seems to have washed away the horror of the week. My plot is still my haven and retreat. The beauty of my wildflower meadow was breath taking. I am blessed.

    PS I have felt very confused and distressed that someone who was always genial, kind and helpful to me and others, may have committed a horrendous murder. I have explored these feeling on my blog at
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