Yesterday, despite the wind and rain, I managed a good long walk with my husband and our dog to a fairly remote Cotswold location that I love to visit at this time of year. Hidden away in a wood, at the end of a rutted track, is a small stone cottage which years ago I named "The Writer's House". Who it actually belongs to I don't know, but I believe it is let out as a holiday home; given its location and its ambiance, who better to inhabit it than a writer, looking for peace and quiet to write, inspirational surroundings and a comfortable, cosy place to relax after a hard day's work!
Why I particularly love the place at this time of year is explained by the garden - a sprawling grassy area surrounded by ancient trees, beneath them a sea of snowdrops. As we reached the house yesterday a brief burst of sunshine lit up the sky. Perhaps a week too early this year to catch them at their best, I was still delighted to see the snowdrops "almost there", their buds just opening as they danced in the breeze. The winter
is moving on!
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