The first day back in the office after my holiday did not get off to a good start with grey, grey skies and rain, rain, rain. Who would have thought the park could change so much in just a week. The sound of the wind in the trees is different , with the leaves starting to dry off, and the rain lashes against the windows. Inside, the cosiest office I have experienced for a long time - four of us, a blast of heat under V's desk and some low lighting.
I arrived home, only moderately damp, with just enough time to cook up some of the harvest - onion, leaf chard and brown rice stir fried with the juice of a lemon, lots of black pepper and a few slices of goat cheese - before dashing off to the EEWI meeting. A pile of finished Morsbags, cake and wine. And the Guerrilla Gardener, Richard Reynolds, in person, with tales of imagination, action and transformation on orphaned land. Hollyhock filled tree pits in Zurich. Sunflowers in south London. And the lavender field of the Elephant and Castle. So when Mr R put out some lavender bags to sell - at London prices, let's say, and leave it at that - I just had to have one, knowing that the proceeds would fund more seeds, more plants for another barren spot.
It may have been the wine or the balminess of the after-rain damp streets as I walked home. Or it may just be the scent of south London lavender that is filling my bedroom as I write this. But tonight I am in love with London and wouldn't swap it for Provence for any price.