A small group gathered by the gate shaking their heads in subdued silence. Each wore dull colours and sensible shoes. Some clutched bunches of drooping spring flowers which mimicked their own demeanour. Occasionally little bursts of conversation gurgled to the surface. It wasn’t a day for the customary jovial exchanges.
It took me completely by surprise. If I’d known, I could have taken better care. Could have covered things up a bit.
I know. There was no real warning was there? Now I’ve lost everything. I’ll just have to start all over again. It’s just so sad and upsetting.
Well, we’ve all suffered the loss in different ways. For me, it was my special Marguerite.
There were early attempts to pick up the pieces and put forward a more positive view of events. After all, not everything was completely lost and there was time for most to begin again.
We’ll just have to pull together and share the work. If we divvy things up and split the effort, we can come through with something for the brighter times.
Nodding heads agreed at this sentiment. Together they could survive; alone the struggle would be hard and, for some quite unbearable.
I mean, I’ve suffered loss before but this is a wipeout.
The less resilient were somewhat disinclined to be philosophical and were tending to hang onto their dismay a little longer.
OK I’m going to take stock and get an idea of how bad things actually are.
This seemed like a good plan and all moved between the plots taking in the state of the carnage, sometimes stopping to offer a crumb of comfort.
One of the number shouted out:
Right, I’m putting the kettle on in the hut. Anyone brought milk? Great. And I’ve got an idea.
After half an hour everyone had reconvened and gratefully sipped at warm tea that helped with the frost pinched fingers and noses. There were even biscuits, which always made the world look brighter.
So, the suggestion was set out by the idea’s person:
Most of my stuff is completely dead, a few beans might regrow but most is just sad mush. Why don’t we send off a bulk order for some plug plants? We could use the allotment kitty and make sure everyone can replace what they’ve lost. It was a freak late frost, nobody’s fault, so we just need to salvage and replant.
All agreed that this was a good use of funds and started to recall the past disasters and plagues which they had weathered. Blight – death to tomatoes and potatoes. Aphids – destroyers of fruit. Vine weevils and so many other causes of disease and desolation.
If they could weather past, they were equal to this new frosty foe. So the allotment campaneros recovered their weather damaged invincibility and each trudged home full of ideas of soup and bread for lunch and a future of plug plants and warmer weather.
