Back down to earth

Photograph of a bonfire on an allotment by Hannah Foley. All rights reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk)It’s been back down to earth for me this week…literally. As many of you know, this last year I have had a portion of my friend’s allotment. It has been a lot of fun even if I have made some really awful mistakes (spraying my broad beans with weed killer instead of washing up liquid for black fly being the highlight). My lovely friend has decided to bow out and I will be taking the whole allotment on. I have been very excited about it and haven’t wasted a moment in getting down there and clearing weeds. On Saturday we had a bonfire of all the clearings. There’s something cathartic about a fire isn’t there? I don’t know what it is. Seeing the flames licking up all the old rotting stems and roots. I particularly relished seeing the bindweed roots going up in flames (good riddance!). I can see why fire is often regarded as a purifying force in folklore, destroying the old and worn, and making space for new things to grow. As our minds turned towards the start of a new school year, having a fire and burning up all the rubbish felt just the right thing to do.

The back end of last week involved the mad rush to make sure we had all the right kit together and correctly labeled before the start of term. Finch blankly refused to try on his new school shorts and wailed disconsolately when I insisted he put on his new trousers so they could be turned up. He declared he was “shy” of those shorts and didn’t see why he couldn’t wear his normal clothes. Tomorrow, I know I will feel as odd at leaving him behind with his new teacher as I did when Little Owl started school. It’s a definite break point in a longer, gradual transition of him gaining more independence. Who would ever want to halt that? It is one of the wonders of parenthood. Still, I have learnt the hard way that no good comes of not making room for the processing of these moments. With Wren off at nursery I will head off to the allotment, spade in hand, to dig in field peas as a green manure, and with every spadeful of earth I will be sending up grateful thanks for this wonderful little chap who is my son.

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