It may not feel as if we have had much of a summer but the signs in the garden are unmistakable. The peas and strawberries have finished, to be replaced by courgettes and tomatoes. Blackberries have appeared in the hedgerows and the sweetcorn just waits for sunshine to ripen.
A non-financial benefit of growing my own has been an increased awareness of seasons. Eating veg as it becomes available from the garden has made me more aware of the change from Spring to Summer, even when the usual cues of barbecues with cold beer were missing.
The seasons were the drumbeat to which our peasant forefathers worked. Food airfreighted to supermarkets from the other side of the world, central heating and electric lighting have all changed that. Whilst I am grateful to be living in the 21st century - our forefathers lived hard and often short lives - I do not think that progress has come cost free. We have become detached from the seasons and are lives are poorer for it. Growing my own has reconnected me to the natural cycle of the growing year.
It has also kindled an urge which our forefathers would have felt acutely. In the midst of this abundance of fruit and veg, I feel the need to save, preserve and put away for the leaner times which, the shortening days tell me, are almost upon us. I will be drying, pickling and freezing (grateful to modern technology for that one) as much as I can over the coming weeks.
However, I do so grateful to supermarkets and airfreight that if it all goes horribly wrong, my family and I will not go hungry.
