Fields were the landscape of my childhood: flat Suffolk fields with endless sweeping skies. Running through long grass, swishing along secret paths through golden corn, scrambling over stacked hay bales and loitering along hedgerows whilst the dog nosed out rabbit trails. These are the small adventures that I return to when I close my eyes.
Over the Midsummer weekend, there is magic abroad. On the longest day, the very start of the summer, we visited the secret garden at Cerney House. The soft warm air was heavy with the scent of roses and lavender, and the gentle breeze carried the audible buzzing of happy bees. Enclosed by old brick walls,
On Saturday, a trip back to our old home city of Bristol led us to Fujiko Nakaya’s ethereal Fog Bridge. Already slightly obsessed with fog (as my Instagram feed often testifies), I was completely entranced, and found myself with a favourite section of The Wasteland running eerily through my head…
To ease us through February, the last weeks of winter, we seek out the delicate snowdrops, a whisper that speaks of the return of spring. Packing up some leftover Bakewell Hearts, we wander the woods and paths of the garden, the snowdrops’ drooping white heads bobbing gently as we pass, like an elfin curtsey. Looking