It’s the school half term break this week so Toby and I are sat here at the moment watching Cbeebies together (teletubbies is still one of his absolute favourites). We’re still getting over the colds, which seem to be lingering on as sniffles and coughs, so we’ll be taking things slow and easy this week. On Sunday Toby went for a day of respite and, since it was a beautiful day and I was feeling the need for some fresh air, I bundled up in warm woollies and set off to the woods for some snowdrop spotting. We have a great choice of different woods carpeted with snowdrops but I think my favourite is in a tiny place called Westmill near Ware which has great clumps of them scattered throughout the wooded banks alongside a quarry.

It was a peaceful, quiet walk, the woods were full of birdsong and breezes and the dappled sunlight shone to spotlight the beauty of these delicate bell shaped flowers. I’m so grateful to have these small wonders on my doorstep and I came home again feeling calm and refreshed.

Hope you have a good week and that you get the chance to find some small, natural marvels near you. x

It’s not often that I get up voluntarily at 4am but on Monday morning I’d set my alarm in the hopes of watching the lunar eclipse. Sadly there was thick cloud cover so I rolled back into bed. But yesterday when I got up at my usual 7am there was the beautiful almost-full moon and a bright clear day behind the curtains and so after getting Toby sorted out and off to school I packed my camera and set off for a walk. Winter hasn’t really been that cold here yet but there was an icy wind and in the shadowy places the crystals of overnight frost lingered. The landscape at this time of year is skeletal and stark, all angles and exposed structure and there’s not much vibrant colour. Instead everything seems muted to grey or brown, the tired and dormant colours of mid-winter. The only greens to be seen are in the thorny tangles of brambles or the lichen and mosses that decorate tree trunks. Even at midday the sun is low and casts long-shanked shadows across the ground, drawing out rich colours from the underfoot leaves and stands of dead bracken, and making me look tall and thin instead of my actual short and dumpy (woo-hoo!)

But, if you look closely, you will find tiny shoots of new growth – small signs that even when things can be perceived as stagnant and lifeless there can be the beginnings of bright, fresh hope x