✴ winkworth arboretum...

...on a cold, wet sunday afternoon.

Starting with a very welcome pit stop for hot soup and cheese toasties in the cafe and deciding that the rain was probably not going to stop any time soon, we braved the cold and drizzle of the great outdoors.

Suitably attired in wellies and waterproofs it was evident that it really wouldn't take too long for the littlest member of the group to end up with soggy and mud splashed trousers after a good session of puddle jumping. 

Despite picking probably the worst afternoon to visit this idyllic National Trust spot, everything still looked beautiful and spring like. Patches of daffodils and snowdrops carpeted the mulchy earth and raindrops clung to budding branches like crystals, catching small rays of light through the dark ominous clouds above. Delicate pale green lichen hung from branches looking like clusters of seaweed washed up and left behind by the salty sea. So pretty. 

After a bit of wandering and a lot of pondering over a damp and just slightly bit confusing map we eventually came across an old, weather worn boathouse. Believed to have been built around the turn of the century, the National Trust have kept it quite untouched and rustic inside with a few oars nestled in the rafters, a slightly crumbling wooden canoe on the floor and fish trophies on the walls. A couple of comfy whicker settees and chairs have been placed by the open doors leading to the small balcony over looking the lake and on a side table, an old chess set, perhaps to while away the long tedious wait for a bite { I don't really get fishing...}. The perfect place to hide out from the rain with a hot flask of tea....um...if only we'd been so prepared..!

A walk in the woods on a rain soaked day which holds such romantic captivation for lovelorn couples can be tantamount to trauma with a toddler in tow. For many reasons; 

one, a small person will positively insist on holding the map/umbrella/camera... in fact anything other than your hand... two, a small person is incapable of walking along a designated path choosing instead the most muddiest embankments, deepest puddles and steepest verges and any other route with a slight element of danger, along which to tread... three, at some point, and maybe even more than once, a small person is guaranteed to 'step out' of a wellie boot and will therefore require carrying the rest of the way back to the car while bemoaning the "wet sock..." they are now sporting.

Happy weekend.