Not Mr. Marley, but a whole lot of fruit in buckets at this time of year. A long dry summer with a wet August has led to a bumper crop of fruit all across Norfolk.
Long, slow weekends exploring the upper reaches of the Waveney (the river that divides Norfolk and Suffolk) has brought home the fetility of the soil here, in contrast to stark West coasts that Christa and I come from.
Apples, pears, plums, blackberries, sloes and damsens become jam, chutney, great desserts and gin (I couldn't help myself).
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