Custodianship of ‘Plot 1 Field-Side’
For the past 6 months I have been custodian of an allotment — a strip of land of approx 11m by 7m, overlooking fields and countryside. I have loved it — even with the intense watering this summer’s drought has required. My name had been on the wait-list since 2024 — but when I reached the top of the list in February, I paused. Would I be able to manage it, given my writing and work? Probably not, but I wanted the experience.
So, I jumped in — and this is what I found:
The act of custodianship comes with its own set of rules. Energetic and emotional ones, as the tending of a piece of land and its potential is passed from one pair of hands to the next. It is so much more — and carries so much more life and heart energy — than the paper contract says. There is history — dreams, creativity, nourishment and solace — in every clump of mud dug. In the seasons layered into its neat plotted landscape.
An allotment is company. The land itself, and also the plants, seeds, crops growing. A harvest becoming, communicating its needs. A reciprocal rapport between the provider of water, shade, fertile conditions … in return for the provision of food, sustenance, health. And a confidence, in the self-sufficiency.
No food I have eaten (including from the best of chefs and cuisines) has ever tasted as good, or as creative, as a plateful of ingredients grown by myself. The cyclical energy of eating our own food source … brought into thought, planted and tended to by our own creativity and care — imbued with the vibrancy of Light and Nature — is a thing. It’s an energy I had not experienced before — which the mind ‘knows’ is beneficial but I experienced as ‘a thing’. This is what living is about. It is a different level of vibrancy and vitality — of connection. One where everyone benefits (for there are always more courgettes than one or two people can eat :))
An allotment is community. Sometimes I would be the only one there, but I never felt alone. Opening the metal entrance gate, felt like I was entering a portal. And the presence of other plot-holders only added to the presence of the place. No ‘fast-moves’ or loud noises. Just a gentle pace and sacred tending where mental thoughts lifted, feet grounded and hearts opened. Tips shared, seedlings shared, produce shared. Occasional drinks and conversation in the setting sun. Joy shared along with watering support — I would have barely a produce were it not for my lovely neighbour stepping in to water for days at a time. This is the reciprocity needed, to live in community. To feed ourselves.
And perhaps the greatest learning — of a hard-hitting truth. That although we ‘know’ we need water to live, it was not until I had to daily (sometimes twice a day) carry 20 watering cans back and forth from the water station to my vegetables, that it really sunk in how vital our water is. That without it, nothing would have lived on my allotment — no food for our families. One plot = our country. One country = our world.
Another element, almost as precious as water and sunshine, is the time needed for an allotment to thrive. Time to care for each stage of the planting and growing process, time to be excited and exploratory, time to ponder and pause, to dig and use every bodily muscle, to laugh at what didn’t grow. We gave the hours, hundreds of them, over the past 6 months. But to feed ourselves — as a nation — would require a redressing of how we live and allocate the hours in our day. A re-prioritising of what is most essential and precious. It is a collective discussion we would do well to start now.
And then it became time to hand it on — to a new custodian. Because as much as I have loved every moment of it, my path is taking me on. I will find ways of incorporating what I have experienced — the light and joy and beneficial health of it, as well as the lessons and new friendships. When I need a fix, I’ll pop back and offer my help if wanted. And I look forward to one day growing my own food again. In the meantime, plot 1 field-side is in a new pair of hands — growing the food we need.
Love,
Delilah
Custodianship: February to August 2026
Special thank you to Mark for embarking on the allotment journey with me, and for building me a greenhouse (and much more!) — it became a moment of beauty.
And, as with all land, I worked with the spirit of place, and asked its permission — and when designing the layout, I dowsed for what the plot wanted to grow and where to place it.
Produce grown: Potatoes (a lovely crop of Charlottes, some Foremost and Maris Piper), a glut of tomatoes, peppers, red and white onions, chilli, garlic, spinach, rocket, sorrel, lettuces, spring onions, a handful of blueberries, strawberries, raspberries and an abundance of courgettes. Carrots, a handful of beans, mint, sage, dill, rhubarb, cucumber, sweetpeas, sunflowers, cosmos, dahlias, marigolds … and still in the ground: squash, zuca, pumpkin, celery, parsnip, beetroot, aubergines, radicchio, leeks. It’s amazing how much we can grow on a modest patch of land.