I am not saying the harvest is completely over but something did occur to me the other day when I was picking some peas at the allotment.

We’ve had a great pea harvest this year and the plant I was picking from is showing the tell-tale signs it is coming to the end of it’s productivity: leaves losing colour, less pods appearing and a general look of ‘the end is nigh’.

It was while I was delving into the mass of yellow leaves that it dawned on me the time for my annual sadness/gladness is drawing ever nearer. Stay with me here and I’ll do my best to explain. Every year I have a 50:50 sense of sad:glad when I see some of the plants coming to the end like the peas are.

I’m sad because it means I won’t be picking the fresh veg from them anymore and will have to wait a long time before I can again. I have an overwhelming gratitude for the plant and how it has helped me to feed my family and give us healthy, organic food (some of which is in the freezer). I have a feeling of saying goodbye to an old friend and it happens every year. To see a plant which was so abundant and healthy looking, being added to the compost heap stirs a twinge in my heart. However…

There is also the 50% glad part. I’m glad to get that part of the plot looking tidy as plants don’t look their best at the end and sometimes that gets to me – I need it tidy. I’m also glad that it signals rest time is coming soon. I don’t grow much in the winter like some folk do. I hear about people growing winter salads and the like – I struggle with this in the summer, I can’t see it happening in the winter!

I have some root crops which will be there in the winter, a few brassicas and leeks but I don’t really need to ‘do’ anything with them.

We still go to the plot during the winter but there is no sense of urgency about it. I enjoy the peace as not many people are as keen as me to go there when it’s cold and grey. I like the light, the birds, the calm that time of year brings to the plot.

It’s also a time I can get some preparation done for the next season – paths are given a new layer of woodchip if I didn’t have time in the autumn, manure and compost are spread over the bays. Still work but it can be done at a more leisurely pace.

So I am approaching the first 50%, the sadder part of the process but I remind myself, rest is coming. More time to do the indoor things I haven’t been able to do in the summer: cosy reading time, movie nights, crafting and so on. I’m hoping this will help to take some of the sting out of the future farewells I will be forced to make.

I am lucky I suppose – I’m never stuck for something to do, no matter the season.