City gardener: The joys of summer 

On a grey November afternoon, clad in a borrowed—and somewhat smelly—fencing outfit, I spent two hours going through the basics of the aspiring duellist: saluting before putting on the protective mask, pinching the grip of the sword with the thumb and index finger, gliding back and forth while keeping the feet planted. But this wasn’t the kind of fencing you see at the Olympics—the dazzling speed of the athletes, electronic scoring, and seemingly nonsensical rules. The instructions came with a twist: our back hand, we learned, could be used to grab the opponent’s sword...