A volunteer's story
Calm, collective caring – our community garden
I wanted to participate more in our community. Pre-pandemic I had loved being one of the ‘Rhymetime Ladies’ at our local library. Now, fifty-something, with no kids, working only from home, I was lonely, depressed, overthinking, immobilised, and anxious. Work seeped into every corner of our lives. Ollie Collie and I walk in the adjacent South Downs daily. A fellow dog walker had mentioned Peverell’s Community Garden a few times. I couldn’t work out where it was or motivate myself to find it. Then one Spring day, it sprung.
They unpaved a parking lot and put up a paradise - Joni Mitchel reference for anyone confused. Also, poetic license, because the car park still stands. Two multi-skilled and experienced community collaborators, Dan and Mim (you will love them) have created and realised this vision, securing the lease for this unused land. It has taken them years, but they have done it. Right behind our car park now stands our very own magic garden. The entrance is through Peverell’s playpark between Barn Rise and Raymond Close behind the SBC Cabin.
And magic it is. Neighbours have gathered, sharing time, skills, and biscuits. In a few months, I have played a part in putting together a polytunnel, planters and a greenhouse, while others have assembled a shed, built a whole composting system, grown salad in a Hugel plant bed, weeded, made posters, painted stones, created bug hotels, planned planting schemes, and run children’s sessions through the summer holidays. I have regained confidence in DIY. With guidance, encouragement, building momentum and stamina, I have painted our fence and am now working on our neighbour’s fence. A local group of us collaborated in disposing of a fridge that had been fly-tipped in our car park. I’ve chatted in passing with people from at least fifteen households in our neighbourhood. I participated in a bug hunt with many local families, bringing back happy Rhymetime memories.
For my fiftieth birthday, during the pandemic, my wife bought me a lemon tree. She has kept it alive. I have now made a deep planter for it, and it has moved into the polytunnel. After much patient teaching from the team, I am now able to make and fix planters in our own backyard. To start with, I was turning up for 10-20 minutes of shoveling, or holding down the corner of a polytunnel cover while we secured it against the wind. I just kept doing it. The garden is seconds away – all I had to do was get out of my door and through that gate. I could even call out to Ollie to reassure him. It wasn’t easy at first. One day, I burst into embarrassing sobs in the car park for no reason, perhaps just an accumulation of all the pressures, distress, and isolation that so many of us have been through. Mim came out and made me feel understood, included, and valued. There were no expectations, I was welcome and accepted whenever I could make it. So, I kept on going, twice a week for two or more hours and in between to water, and open and close the polytunnel some days.
One of the highlights was when one of our team – a great cook – brought us all lunch that they had made from their allotment. We sat together under the Beech trees on a breezy summer day, with our nine-year old chief gardener at the head of the table, sharing a delicious pasta bake and appreciating each other’s unique contributions, hard work, and company.
So, to anyone out there who might need some encouragement to get through the gate, come along to participate in the carpentry, cookery and compost in our not-so-secret garden. I can tell you for sure, you are welcome.