For Sara Okrent, this time of year means hammers, ladders and nails. "We cannot not build a succah," she says. "It's not an option."

Yet, during her childhood, the succah played almost no part in her experience, despite growing up in Stanmore in a community that was strongly culturally Jewish. "The only succah I'd ever been in growing up was the public, shul one," she says. "I don't think I ever actually sat in a succah as a child."

Sara, who belongs to the Masorti New North London Synagogue, first spent a significant amount of time in a succah on a gap year in Israel. When she got married and had her own house and garden, she couldn't wait to build one for the first time. "We wanted to enjoy the fun bits of being Jewish - not just the hard bits," she says. "It's part of embracing Judaism as a lifestyle. I like the idea of bundling up in scarves and gloves. No matter what, we'll eat out there. If the weather is really bad, we'll have as much of the meal as we can bear, then come inside."

Cliff and Jennie Abelman are members of Finchley Reform Synagogue. Neither of them had succahs in their childhood, but they have built one in their garden every Succot for the last 30 years. "We were inspired by our then rabbi, Rodney Mariner of Belsize Square Synagogue, says Cliff. "We weren't particularly observant, but we thought, why don't we make our own succah?"

For the Abelmans, it is all about the relationship between Judaism and the natural world. "It brings the festival alive," says Jennie. "It's about the seasons. It feels like a very physical expression of your faith."

Their Succah is decorated with garlands of conkers, laurel leaves and fresh produce. "Even though it gets frustrating because you get slugs and snails – at the same time it feels very religious to decorate it with real fruit and vegetables. "

United Synagogue member, Nic Abery, did have a succah each year, growing up. "It was tiny," she says. "We didn't really eat there. We did kiddush. It was definitely about yomtov."

Her family succah was made out of trellis fencing and myrtle branches. "We used to go down to my Grandma's and hack her myrtle bush to pieces," she adds.

Now, she and her husband and two boys build a succah each year in their garden and eat in it whenever possible. "The kids really look forward to it," she says.

Most of her friends also have one. Even if they don't really have enough space to build a large one, they still manage something. "I think it's because more kids go to Jewish schools," Nic says. "Also, people have travelled to Israel more. We're much more aware of what's going on there."

Although the Okrent family have built a succah since before they had their own family, their children's involvement is now a key part of the experience. "The kids make decorations every year," says Sara. "We all like to reminisce about the things they made in other years. At the end, we put the decorations in a box for next time. It means we can tell the children we're not missing out on decorating Christmas trees – we decorate our succah."

Jennie Abelman agrees. "It's my way of decorating a Christmas tree," she says.

For Nic Abery, the spiritual significance of Succot comes to the surface in conversations with her children.

"There are millions of people in the world who live in the equivalent of a succah, permanently," she says. "We can choose to go inside when it's cold and wet. We talk with our kids about this."

Rabbi Tanya Sakhnovich is the minister of Nottingham Liberal Synagogue. Her congregants come together in the shul succah each year, though few choose to build their own. "We have a 'bring and share' evening," she explains. "It's really well attended. The kids decorate the succah so beautifully and it's quite a community event."

Rabbi Tanya says that, for her, the most important thing is that her members should invite people into their homes. Succot is all about, "sharing hospitality with a stranger and realising how lucky we are to have a roof over our heads… understanding how fragile life is.

"It took me years to bring the importance of Succot into the community consciousness."

The rise of the 'prefab' succah has contributed to the increase in succah popularity. If you go to Succahmart, an international provider of convenience succahs, you can choose from a whole array of different sizes and levels of comfort. "Only takes 15 minutes to assemble!" announces the promotional video.

For the Okrent family, though, building their succah from scratch is essential. Sara's husband Leor came up with the original design and bought the wood from a DIY shop.

"Each year he's improved on it and found ways to strengthen it and sort out the wobbly bits," says Sara.

The Abelmans' succah is also their own design. "Building it is part of the experience," says Cliff, adding proudly, that during the Great Storm of 1987 his succah remained standing. "Only one grapefruit fell on the ground," he says.

So, are we building more succahs because they are easier to erect? Or is it our link with Israel? A spokesman for Succahmart puts it down to a growing level of observance. "People are definitely returning to yiddishkeit."

Jonathan Boyd of the Institute for Jewish Policy Research says that, although there has never been a formal study, he, too, sees a definite increase in succah building. "A growing Orthodox sector, improved socio-economic circumstances among British Jews, and an increased sense of Jewish self-confidence will all have contributed in some way," he says.

Succahs have also been brought to prominence in the past few years by high-profile design projects such as Succahville in Toronto and Succah City in New York.

These are architectural competitions where entrants are challenged to reinvent the idea of the succah while adhering to halachic guidelines.

I suspect that social media and the internet have played a part, too. When one year you see a friend's series of photos as they build and decorate their succah, it is an easy step to deciding to have one of your own the following year.

There is still a relative difference between communities, with US and other Orthodox families having the highest proportion, followed by Masorti, then Reform, then Liberal where they still appear to be reasonably rare. But if one were to fly a helicopter over the heavily Jewish areas of the UK during Succot, and take a succah census, there would be no doubt that this is a festival modern British Jewry has decided to embrace.