text: It's not that surprising that even an experienced gardener like him looks a bit awkward.
  I'm not sure that many of us would quite know what to do when handed a giant vegetable in front of a pack of photographers.
  But it won't be surprising to see it all over the newspapers and stuck in people's memories.
  And it was a reminder that before Mr Corbyn even tries to win the battles he will certainly face this week - over nuclear weapons, over how to balance the country's books, or over the way Labour makes its decisions - his team's priority must be, get through the week without mishap.
  For party conferences are strange, intense, microclimates where the what is said on the stage, however carefully crafted or considered, can be subsumed by our old friends, "events", however silly.
  And sometimes those are the moments that shift opinion, or express a truth political parties don't want to contemplate.
  And occasionally, they are the moments senior politicians lose control.
  In 2003 I remember seeing Conservative aides grimace during the then leader Iain Duncan Smith's speech, as he promised the "quiet man" was "turning up the volume".
  That week, everywhere Conservatives had been huddled in corners wondering how to unseat him. His strangely delivered speech contributed to his ultimate exit.
  In 2006 I remember Cherie Blair's unguarded, and then denied remark, whizzed round the conference centre in 2006, when she cried out "it's a lie" when Gordon Brown heaped praise on her husband.
  Nothing expressed the levels of bitterness between the two camps so well.
  In 2008, it wasn't just the rather silly picture of him clutching a banana that put David Miliband onto the front pages, but that he'd been overheard talking of avoiding a "Heseltine moment".
  His leadership ambitions were what made the conference banana moment worth printing.
  The year before, when Sir Menzies Campbell was already under attack for lacklustre leadership of the Liberal Democrats, I recall the uncomfortable press visit to an environmentally friendly house outside Bournemouth, where aides allowed him to be photographed while inspecting an organic toilet.
  Awkward didn't begin to cover it. Unfair perhaps, but that moment suggested all that what was wrong with his party machine, and weeks later he was gone.
  There is so much at stake for the Labour Party this week, that Jeremy Corbyn's "marrow moment" may be quickly forgotten.
  The point is, to have a hope of sticking to his agenda, the first priority for Team Corbyn may be avoiding mishaps.
  In the frantic environment of conference, much more experienced political teams have lost complete control of events.
  One senior Labour figure suggested to me that with Mr Corbyn's first Prime Minister's Questions, "expectations were low, so when it wasn't a disaster it was a relief", and that conference might be the same.
  With disagreements all around, and the extraordinary divisions between Labour's supporters and members and their MPs, a silly photograph on the eve of the event may prove the least of Mr Corbyn's concerns.
  What his team will hope tonight is that its awkwardness, his visible discomfort, doesn't in fact set the tone.
target: Just as I was sitting down to write about the existential struggle for Labour's soul we may witness in Brighton in the next few days, my inbox pinged with the photograph of Jeremy Corbyn, bemusedly holding a marrow.