Pirnmill Community Garden – A Quiet Morning Visit
This morning I took a slow wander to the Pirnmill community garden. The wind was bustling through the leaves, sending branches swaying and carrying the salty tang of the nearby shore. There wasn’t a soul around, yet the place felt anything but empty.
The signs of care were everywhere. A neatly written task board stood ready for the next set of willing hands. Tools were hung in perfect order in the shed, their well-worn handles telling stories of many hours’ work. Trays of seedlings, stacks of plant pots, and rows of onions drying in the breeze spoke of planning, patience, and pride.
Winding between the beds, I found vegetables thriving – tomatoes ripening on tangled vines, lettuces in frilly abundance, nasturtiums spilling their bright faces over the edges, and raspberries beginning to swell behind the protective mesh. In a shaded corner, a simple wooden chair waited – perhaps for a gardener to pause and take it all in, or for a visitor to sit and enjoy the view.
Though there was no one here to greet me, the garden itself spoke volumes. This is clearly a well-tended and cherished space, the kind that brings people together, even if not at the same moment. It’s a place where hands have worked, ideas have grown, and the community’s shared love for the land shines through.
The Pirnmill community garden is more than just a plot of soil – it’s a quiet reminder of what can flourish when people come together to nurture something, season after season.
