It was a cold night shortly before Christmas, a time for having "It's a Wonderful Life" moments.
On my way to drinks with a friend, I arrived by tube at Kilburn, a place I'd describe as "edgy" or even "gritty". Neither of which descriptors are intended critically. Having arrived from more manicured parts of London, I knew that, among other things, I was guaranteed to find on Kilburn High Street my two remaining bits of Christmas shopping, namely a pie tin and some Polish Kabanos.
On the platform I saw it: a small low-walled patch of vegetation. But not merely flowers. Vegetables. Herbs. And a sign explaining that this was an allotment run by volunteers and that anyone was welcome to pick their own vegetables, provided they left some for others. Chives are my thing so I picked one there and then and nibbled it. I then left and, glowing, headed to Kilburn High Street.