By the side of a path I see a buddleia of a purple so intense that I have to stop to look again. It is a royal purple, rich and commanding, the sort of purple that goes with fine linen, worn by the rich man, at whose gate sat Lazarus.
While picking beans I feel something whip at my neck it is the purple tendril of the climbing bean, Blauhilde. If I stand here long enough it will wind itself round me and carry me down to the dark cellars beneath the earth where beans get their power.
"Cooking : Subject of tv game shows. Should not be attempted at home". JP