At the back of the garden, that horrible place that's home to the car, composter and mutant-sized weeds run amok (all of it mercifully hidden from view by a massive yew), nature has tackled a garden improvement project. A volunteer tomato plant has sprouted at the base of the composter and it is growing like crazy. That's a bit of a surprise because this particular area gets very little sunshine until late afternoon. I imagine the plant is compensating by burrowing its roots deep under the composter and drinking up all that compost goodness. Having witnessed its determination in such a hostile environment (the thistles rule back here), I had no choice but to take action. The vine, which had started to clamber across the gravel driveway, is now staked and I'm cheering it on as it grows.
There's plenty of fruit already on the vine. The shape suggests a plum tomato. I'm certain it's a Roma. I can distinctly remember purchasing Roma tomatoes in the not-too-distant past. Romas are an unusual choice for me (I like my tomatoes small, juicy and round) so perhaps that's why the purchase stuck in my head. So sometime since then, somehow, a seed found its way off the dinner plate, into and out of the composter, onto a suitable patch of dirt and, without drawing any attention to itself, grew tall, flowered profusely, and set fruit. All without any encouragement. No soil preparation, no weeding, no fertilizing, no watering. Nothing. Now that's what I call a great volunteer. A round of applause is certainly in order.