My vegetable garden has been my lockdown salvation

In the latest of his reflections on places and pathways, Will Gore relates his recent green-fingered labours

Tendrils began to creep around our kitchen in April and May (Will Gore)

In the midst of the pre-lockdown food panic, when tinned tomatoes were being fought over and there were dire warnings about potential lettuce shortages, I hurried to the garden centre to buy seeds. Never mind that none of the vegetables I might grow would actually be ready to eat for at least four months, no one in my house was going to go hungry come August – not on my watch.

We got our supplies just in time, in fact: garden centres closed two days later. Over the next few weeks, we duly planted tomatoes, runner beans, French beans, sweetcorn and courgettes – as well as the nasturtiums my son had picked (my daughter chose poppies, which we’ll scatter soon). The tops of the kitchen cupboards were soon covered with small pots, each with its own green shoot.

I have grown vegetables in past years – mostly beans, which are more or less foolproof. It may be in the blood: my dad had an allotment when I was small, then turned over the top end of the garden to fruit and veg when my brother and I grew too old to require it for a cricket pitch. I’m not sure I was ever an enthusiastic helper, except when it came to eating the produce. But I had been made aware of the possibilities.