Whilst I can manage most of the allotment beds through judcious use of cardboard, heavy mulches and hand weeding, there are still a couple of beds that I have had to dig to clear existing plants and pernicious weeds.
Whether it be the tap roots of plants like dandelions; the strong rope-like nettle roots or the brittle 'come back king' roots of bindweed and couch grass, they all find their synergy with their environment and have evolved to survive and thrive.
I feel rooted in East Anglia, specifically Norfolk and Suffolk. My DNA comes from the sandy soil, brackish waters and salt-laden winds of this area. We are a family of little migration. Going back centuries no-one from either side of my family has lived outside of Norfolk or Suffolk, with the exception of my unfortunate, three times Great Grandmother, Harriet Blyth, who was transported to Van Diemans Land in 1848 for petty theft. She died there two years later.
Records show that almost all of my ancestors, up to and including both of my Grandfathers, were agr lab (agricultural labourers). These were the rural poor, people of the land, beholden to the landowners. They stayed though unlike many. The lure of industrialization drawing them into the towns and cities was not strong enough to make them break their ties. It was not until the 1940s after my paternal Grandfather had moved to Felixstowe from Norfolk, and changed from being a live-in gardener to a labourer at the then developing docks, that the link to employment on the land was broken on that side of the family.
My maternal Grandfather started work as a horseman at the age of 14. He worked with Suffolk Punches on a small farm between Alderton and the enigmatic hamlet of Shingle Street on the Suffolk coast. He went on to work with other livestock, latterly keeping pigs and chickens on his smallholding almost right until he died in his late 80s. My childhood memories are full of collecting eggs; following behind him dropping potatoes into freshly dug trenches and earthing up seemingly endless rows of celery.
My cousin and his family now live in my Grandparents' old house. We really do not move much.
My sense of belonging, my rootedness to Norfolk and Suffolk, is absolute and overwhelming. It is not merely a feeling of home or familiarity with a place. I feel my invisible roots grounding me and my capillary soul circulating between my body and the land.
I have visited many outstandingly beautiful locations. Other places with wild seas and big skies, or less familiar landscapes, squashed between hills and mountains. I can fully appreciate their aesthetic and can embrace their difference. It is not though until I get back to Suffolk that my own sense of completeness returns. My roots settled once more into their microbiome.
Loved this honey. So interesting - my mother’s side is very much rooted in Suffolk as well although my great,great grandmother eloped from Ireland in the late 19th century. It’s my paternal side that’s a little more exotic! X
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