September 2019

This weekend was Harvest Festival. When I was little, we’d set off to church for it, laden with bounty from the garden – marrows and broad beans; redcurrants and gooseberries – and we’d decorate every corner of the church with our harvest offerings. The altar would be surrounded by sheaves of corn and elaborately plaited bread, and we’d sing ‘We plough the fields and scatter’ like we’d all personally done so. Read More