Remember the photo of the shed with the cane chairs outside, a perfect place to sit and ponder?
I’ve recently ‘inherited’ a shed – it came with the new plot. The gentleman who rented it before me has retired after many years of allotmenting, always a sad moment to see one of the ‘old’ boys leave.
There are the practicalities of sheds like tool storage but every shed is different and personalised. And walking into this shed I’m taken back a step in time and into someone else’s private world.
Entering a shed everything quietens. There is a stillness, it’s as if time has stopped as if the gentleman who last used the shed just packed up for the day expecting to return tomorrow.
The light is softer inside the shed, gentler, there is a warmth from the wood.
The shed whispers of a life lived. Of a place to escape and just be.
Tidy and organised. Carefulness and of frugality.
Balls of string, rolls of wire, screws and nails. Rusting tins. Stories to tell.
A kettle and tea cups. A rake and shears.
Cobwebs and dust are gathering
As I step back outside and close the door I wonder if I should leave it like it is. Almost as a museum place, everything where it is, left untouched. It seems a shame to touch and to break the spell.
In my heart I want to leave it as it is, but I know I will take the photograph down and try to return it to its rightful owner and in all honesty I’ll probably dispose of the shoes too. Over time there will be the temptation to use some of the tools, they’ll be good to work with – old tools always are. And when it rains, as rain it will, I can stand sheltering on the doorstep and stare out over the allotment and out to sea, a cup of tea in my hand; yes I have my eye on the kettle, you can’t garden without tea.
Would you leave it as it is – a place and piece in time, suspended in cobwebs and memories?
- Spadefuls’ of imagination needed (promenadeplantings.com)
- Pottering, pootling and photographing the allotment (promenadeplantings.com)