Sunday Harvest

Our own apple tree. It probably has about 40 fruit, but we're competing against the birds and the squirrels. That we have stopped counting the exact number is proof of abundance. None has ever tasted as good as the first apple, when the tree bore one, lone, giant, snow-white-like red apple.




We've been part of a community vegetable garden that started last winter on the council estate opposite mine, making use of an derelict locked-up playground. It is transformed and I only wish I'd taken photos of how it was before. On Sunday we reaped our little share of the harvest and made an entire lunch from the produce. The cucumber was divine, and the beetroot leaves tasted like sweet butter.
The project is so simple, entirely run by local residents, but who battled with the Council for their right to dig and grow. Brings a new meaning to Dignity - which is what the project brings to the whole neighbourhood.