Everything Gardens and Other Stories. UNIV PLYMOUTH

the growing of herbs and vegetables in public spaces for people to freely pick from. Here, a few things drew my attention. The first was a noticeboard signposting edible plants that passers-by might not necessarily be familiar with, helping the layperson develop an ‘eye’ for seasonality and particular plant varieties. I subsequently inquired about the criteria that went into the choice of the vegetable mix to plant in an orchard of this sort. The response was interesting, since one of the criteria for choosing cultivars was to enable as low a threshold of engagement with the orchard as possible on the part of passers-by. So, for instance, chosen plants tended to be of a variety that allowed easy picking, tipping the bias towards herbs as opposed to tubers like potatoes, that would require one to possess some tools and knowledge to dig them up, with the risk of damaging other plants if not done with the requisite care and expertise. Moreover, on that particular occasion, the orchard was growing a few herbs and some squashes, which the volunteer group were pulling out to make space for the next crop. Our digging was briefly interrupted by a passer-by that inquired about a particular squash he had been watching, and which he was planning to harvest and cook once ripe. The passer-by’s interaction with the working team expressed concern for the potential loss of an attachment (to the desired squash) that had been developed and tended to in their absence, and it provided a succinct manifestation of the extent to which the presence and design of the orchard enabled experiences – of seasonality, of concern for public space, and a curiosity for foraging – to ‘grow’ in an almost underhand way on those engaging with it. These orchards were ‘Transition’ orchards insofar as they acted as possibilities through which to become oriented towards its moving that embraces more than the orchards themselves and, specifically, other Transition-type practices. The yields sought were not simply centred on the individual patch and the uses that human and nonhuman bodies would make of it, but they embraced the facilitation of forms of engagement that could subsequently ‘poise’ those so affected to become more open to other experiences available, beyond the garden itself, in the wider life-world of Transition.

      Growing food evokes Transition-ness precisely when it signals a potential continuity with other non-food growing activities into which the inadvertent forager or food grower might be ushered by having taken that initial step. As participants develop a deeper ability to recognise – and a taste for – seasonal food, an awareness of the availability of and challenges pertaining to common spaces, and gather experiences of conviviality (in the sense of cum-vivere, i.e. living – and belonging – together), gardening can act as a source of further curiosities and disquiets, to which they might be more inclined to respond by escalating their involvement beyond the gardening/harvesting itself, and into developing other aspects of an evolving Transition culture.

Food and the experience of ‘community’

      Similar initiatives invite anyone, even in their capacity as passers-by (and not as people interested to know more about permaculture) to join. Gardening projects work as much on the availability of local food as they foster what a volunteer called the ‘spirit of sharing’, through which particular inclinations slowly ‘grow’ on participants, prompting the development of a wider culture of Transition (across and even beyond the food growing aspect). One instance of this is the experience of foraging for food in a communal garden, which may nurture a newfound ability to ‘perceive’ seasonality and a curiosity to locate ‘edible’ crops. Leading on from this, the Transition initiative in Totnes arranges what are called Skillshares. These are ‘taster’ meetings to which anyone can sign up, and take part in an induction session about various activities, often related to cultivating a novel relationship with food. Therefore it is the case that expert foragers have offered taster sessions on foraging in and around Totnes through this channel. An incipient interest in foraging, appropriately nurtured, can in turn lead to yet other experiences beyond the harvesting of food. For example, foraging parties are occasions for experiencing conviviality by spending time outdoors with others, either by walking or by sharing some of the work for processing harvested produce (such as shelling nuts together). Foraging can also provide an awareness of being ‘embedded’ in an environment that produces food regardless of our direct intervention, nurturing the sense that food production is not just an activity that is subject to human control and calculation. In this sense, foraging not only provides a practical focus for the coming together of a ‘community’ of other foragers, but it can also usher the experience of feeling part of an ecosystem, fostering a sense of participation in an ecological whole that includes ourselves. In this sense, the experience of foraging in a communal garden multiplies lines of interest and possibilities for further engagement, facilitating resonance with other offerings (such as Skillshares or ‘Inner Transition’ practices, discussed in the next chapter) existing within Transition, through which one may find a way into this evolving milieu.

      On some of the occasions when I have been involved in growing food outdoors, I have also found the sharing of food at the end of a day’s work to be a central part of the experience. Food growing activities, such as tending to communal gardens or orchards, have sometimes included mini-potlucks, where participants could bring food they had cooked, normally homemade cakes, and share it with one another. An experience of this sort can consequently make one more receptive and eager to partake in (or organise) more potluck events, where people bring food and sit around tables to chat with each other and dwell together in a shared space where a ‘community’ is thereby assembled.33 This was, for instance, the case with events organised by the Network of Wellbeing, a Totnes-based initiative that, while formally separate from Transition, often shared an overlapping membership, and through which participation in food-growing projects within Transition is sometimes encouraged. In fact, this is how I was able to originally get involved in tending to communal gardens in Transition.

      Eating also amounts to the stealth cultivation of bodily orientations and ‘tastes’ for particular kinds of foods, such as ‘organic’ or ‘seasonal’. If, as suggested by sociologist Michael Carolan,34 attachments to food are not just something we can concoct intellectually, but which are built through repeated engagement with a particular experience of taste,35 then it makes sense to see how – according to one interviewee – it is crucial to offer experiences of alternative food choices:

      At our community meal, we only serve vegetarian food [...] we don’t suddenly sit up and say ‘Now, we’re going to turn you all into vegetarians’. That would just be a nightmare! It would be a waste of time. However, they’re having an experience of it, they’re getting used to people coming up and saying ‘Hey, you know, the cabbage that we’ve just been eating has come from so-and-so’s allotment, or we bought if from so-and-so, and all this stuff is made by hand, it’s not processed, hasn’t come from a factory, all these apples have been picked at a local community orchard. All these kind of things [...] these connections are happening. People are eating it. They’re experiencing it. That’s what matters.

      Moreover, in all of the above activities, people are able to relate to each other through the common tending to a garden, through participation in a foraging expedition, or by sharing and eating food. In this sense, the connection between them is somewhat more ‘ready to hand’36 than if it were just based on people’s negotiation of political views about community, local food or climate change. In being brought together through engagement in growing, harvesting, sharing or eating food, it is easier for individuals to be assembled as a ‘community’, in that attachments are already partially formed as people come in with the goal of doing something like tending to the garden or preparing food.37 This is akin to the situation of going to a dance party and being able to leverage an attachment to a drink as a way to not feel ‘awkward’ for not dancing, as one does not have to negotiate explicitly the choice not to dance. Which is why occasionally those people less inclined to dance might still be able to join one such event and, on finding the right song, even join in the dancing. A party, in this sense, has a lower threshold than a dancing class, where the very explicit purpose of the gathering is to dance. To apply this to Transition initiatives, then, the ‘community’ is not built through the achievement of a discursive consensus over what action should be taken to address the issues that the event seeks to build awareness of,38 but it is – in a way – preformed by piggybacking on a particular material activity: growing, planting, foraging, cooking or eating. In engaging repeatedly in similar doings a social aggregation is eventually built nonetheless, as one starts seeing