A city garden

I love my flat, but if there’s one thing it lacks, it’s a garden. I’m not the world’s most conscientious gardener. When I had a front and back yard filled with pots, I often found my next door neighbour dousing my sad looking plants with her hose from over the wall…

Still, I like the IDEA of growing things, and so a few weeks ago, on a shoot for work up on the North York Moors, when I found myself in a garden centre for lunch. I left with two tomato plants, a flat leaf parsley, sweet peas, sweet william and a cosmos.

I managed to fit these into the space of a doorstep, just in front of what I think is romantically known as a Juliet balcony, but is in reality a railing to stop us from falling out of our kitchen door and onto the dead pigeon roof below…

Every morning I open the door and say hello to my plants, every evening I come home and water them.

They’re thriving in their tiny pocket of space. A tiny pocket of life and green happiness in an otherwise concrete jungle.

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