I was gifted a mug today. It had "Dumbiedykes Community Growers" and my name on it. It was a gesture that landed heavily. Not everyone received one. I think they saw me not just as a volunteer, but someone who belonged. Lately, they'd started giving me more responsibilities—creating online forms, redesigning the pamphlets being used for door-knocking. I had become an insider. No longer peripheral.

Today's task was to prepare a bed of straws for our strawberries. As they grow, their weight pulls them down toward the soil. The organiser explained how, if left touching the wet ground, they attract insects and rot. Straw lifts them just enough, keeping them edible.

Before laying the straw, I cleared the weeds. No second-guessing, no WhatsApp photos sent. I just knew. No one had asked me to do this, it just felt natural. As did pouring in the comfrey fertiliser we had made and watering them after.

Later in the day, we moved to the flower beds. The organiser had brought two struggling plants from her home garden. They were teetering at the edge of survival. We gave them a new home in our garden, hoping they'd do better among friends. As I dug, I kept finding earthworms. Each one met with small bursts of joy from those nearby. "That's good, we like them," one said. Earthworms meant the soil was good. That they, too, had chosen to make their home here.

Back home, I ran into my flatmate while carrying my new mug. I told him about the garden, and invited him for some green therapy, even though that won't be for another two weeks. I'll be away—first for Plant Power, then a bit of travel. But I know I'll return. Things are growing there. So am I.