Our house faces south east across the valley and in the morning the sun streams in through the windows. The shadows are long on the far hill and the dew is deep and shining. I have a hundred and one things to do today but I eat my breakfast slowly outside in the sun under the yew tree. Then I take my camera and wander slowly around the garden. I hope I can share this morning and this place with you.
This is the house, tucked into the side of the valley, sheltered for four hundred years from the prevailing wind. There are massive yew trees on either side and beeches behind, in a protective curve.
This is the view out up towards the head of the valley where the Offa's Dyke path marches along the ridge towards Moel Arthur and Moel Famau. No doubt at all that this is the place of Arthur's burial to local minds.
The kitchen garden still holding onto its last abundance looking towards the big pigsty.
Cotoneaster, geometrical, perfect.
The house as you come up through the footpath, with the bakehouse and the small pigsties (just wood stores now) on the left. The little tree just seen on the right is a medlar, covered with fruit. In a couple of weeks I shall make medlar jelly with it.
Well I have chutney to make, if I can bear to stay inside. Ian has been away a couple of days and is back about lunchtime. The sun is pouring like gold into the kitchen. What a joy it is to be alive.