to the summerhouse

Across the lake.


Spring snowdrops.

I've always loved the summerhouse in the grounds of the big house, perhaps even more so than the big house itself. I just really like a round room.

I spent this past weekend with my family back in Hampshire (celebrating my Grandmother's 65th birthday) and whilst there, I paid a visit to The Vyne, a 16th-century country house owned by the National Trust on the outskirts of Sherborne St John, the village in which my grandparents live. I used to work in the Tudor tea-room at The Vyne every Sunday as a teenager along with lots of my school friends. It was a dream weekend job - hardly anybody used to visit during the bleak winter months, so much of our time was spent huddled around a crackling fire, eating countless slices of Victoria sponge cake and drinking hot chocolate. It's always a joy to revisit the place, and the grounds looked exceptionally delightful this weekend, with patches of brilliant white snowdrops covering the lawns and a soft golden light bathing the old buildings. The first days of spring are upon us, at last.