I Reap What I've Sown / Not Sown

Finding a garden unexpectedly on the flat roof at the back of my home has been a gift from lockdown, slow down, sit down, hunker down … down the stairs I go each morning, doing my yoga moves as I climb out of the window at around 10am. This is the time when the sun comes round the rooftops, or rather the rooftops tilt further, letting the sunshine through. From that point, on a fine morning, I have about two and a half hours before the earth tilts me back into shade.

I've adjusted my working habits to suit, and I'm reading more books - Rights and Wrongs in Social Work by Mark Doel works even better in fresh air. I can't see my laptop screen outside, so it has to be paper, and it has to be one of twenty books I hustled from my office when I knew it was likely I'd be away from the campus for a while.

I've adjusted my horizons to suit, have explored the 12 metre length, 1.5m width of space, finding more pleasures - in particular the luck of a pot bound hydrangea with newly sprouting flowerheads.  My friend, G K Anarchist, socially distanced a bag of compost for me, and I cycled over to pick it up from outside his home. On the way back, I pushed my way up Wyle Cop, my bike tripled in weight. I quarantined the bag for a couple of days, before opening it up, digging my hands into its dark richness, then liberating the hydrangea into wider, deeper soil.

I've adjusted my cooking to suit the herbs in the garden. I'd always considered coriander exotic because of its association with spicy dishes, but it turns out to be surprisingly easy to grow from seed. The leaves I've harvested so far taste miraculously like coriander, so I made a celebratory meal of butternut squash curry, homemade naan,  rice, mango chutney and yoghurt - then garnished the lot with a first sprig from the largest coriander plant.

I've adjusted my choices to suit,  aligning myself with my son Jonty's vegetarianism, his decision based on thoughtful consideration. I've slipped into it, and to the excitement of my weekly veg box from Pomona - a Shrewsbury grocery store which also delivers, if requested, maple syrup and lavender plants.

I've adjusted my swims to the size of my bath, easing myself under water as each day ends, into the comfort of warmth and lemon soap, into the sensation of almost floating: a nod in the direction of weightlessness.