Indeed there is something spiritual about working with the land, of running your fingers through dark, fertile soil, of working in sync with the cycles of the season.

I place the root ball in the carefully dug furrow and close the earth over it, firming it down and move on to the next until there’s a row of young tomato plants, ready to extend their roots into the earth, to grow. And when it’s done I sit down and have a drink. There’s dirt beneath my nails and I think once more, I could do this forever.