Burley’s Apple Pressing Festival

Burley’s Apple Pressing Festival

It feels like autumn has already passed by in a flash, a fleeting moment of oranges and browns, but looking back, the start of the season feels a long way behind. In the wake of Bonfire Night, it’s too easy to start thinking about what’s coming next. One thing that slow living has taught me, however, is to …
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Catching Golden Hour in Autumn

Catching Golden Hour in Autumn

Inspired by the beautiful outdoor photography shared this autumn, I wanted to capture a snippet of this wonderful season while I had the chance. One evening we drove to a nearby heathland only to find golden hour at its prime. The glow illuminating a subject in a photograph adds such a dreamy touch and to this day, is one of …
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Floral Dreams at Setley Ridge, Brockenhurst

Floral Dreams at Setley Ridge, Brockenhurst

Following our quaint morning in Brockenhurst, we continued the theme for the day by exploring Setley Ridge, a compact but lovely garden centre not far from the village. It was thanks to Rosie Lea’s Tearoom back in the village that we came to know this place. Hosting its sister kitchen, Setley Ridge is not only a haven for the …
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An Ode to Summer

An Ode to Summer

With your mild temperament and air of ease, the ordinary becomes something more. A cup of coffee tastes that much more refreshing, with hours of evening light ahead. Our days are filled with possibilities – yet we never quite attempt it all. Fresh laundry billowing in the breeze and speckles of pollen lingering for far too long, you come with…
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White Mill, Wimborne

White Mill, Wimborne

One of my favourite ways to spend the weekend is with a visit to a National Trust place. Tucked away in the beautiful Dorset countryside, not far from Wimborne, is White Mill, an 18th-century corn mill surrounded by a peaceful garden and a pretty river towards the back. This is the smallest National Trust property we’ve explored so far …
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Snow in March

Snow in March

There’s a flurry of snowflakes outside, swirling with every blustery gale as I’m writing this. I’m perched by the window, the warmth of the fire in the room, my legs stretched over the radiator for extra heat. Some of the flakes have settled on top of the rosebush in the garden, with its pink flowers blooming in …
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