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Was it a Dream

Photo copyright:
Photo copyright: Sarah Potter

To be self-sufficient was my dream; on my hands and knees I removed every weed. My allotment was a sight to behold, dark deep rich loam rewarded my effort. Such crops grew, buckets full of strawberries, cabbages the size of footballs, my tomatoes blossomed, golden was my reward. But it was the social side which rewarded me most. Flasks of tea were shared, fresh produce swapped, conversations flowed. I had found paradise, as all who gardened here did.

Then the council man came, not to reward, but punish. We protested but lost; why why did they bury the land in concrete.

Switching on the camera
There is no such thing as a weed, just a plant growing in the wrong place,

Footnote: this is a factual story, we campaigned to stop the building of an industrial complex on the best soil in the valley, but to no avail. Now a growing platform of concrete spreads across what was once one of the most beautiful valleys in the Yorkshire Dales. And they call it progress.

This Post Has 36 Comments
  1. You’re joy at gardening and frustration of it’s destruction is palatable in this story. It is unfortunately happening everywhere. I liked your prospective on weeds. I often think of how lovely my lawn would be if only dandelions were considered flowers not weeds.

    1. I do fear that nature is no longer really valued. And that the power of progress is in the hands of those who love concrete. I believe in progress but not in its present destructive form.

  2. I understand fully. Pune used to be thought of as a perfect place to retire. Now it’s covered with roads and concrete and they’re digging into the hills known as the ‘lungs of Pune’. Also, they’ve cut down many of the trees. The ground water has diminished and the temperature risen. This also is called progress. 🙁 — Suzanne

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