I decided to come up to the farm the day after Shavuot, one of the Jewish harvest festivals. I went into the backyard and wanted to plant something. There were a few planters full of dirt, left by my landlady before lockdown started. One of them was full of lavender. One was full of dried weeds. A few looked empty. In any case, I had no seeds and nothing to plant, short of the innards of the peppers I had eaten the night before, which seemed a tad ambitious. I dug my hands in

You never know what you don’t know. Before this week I didn’t know that chickpeas grow in pods, just like snap peas. I didn’t know that rich indigo blue can be extracted from various plants growing across the Scottish countryside. I didn't know the sound that train tracks make as they creak throughout the shifting heat of the day. I didn't know the feeling of a sheep sniffing at my fingertips in the hope of corn flakes. I've taken this experience of lockdown and gone to volun