Lockdown is (mostly) over, the pubs are open and I’m moving back onto the narrowboat – what a week this is.

My first British spring since 1990 was not spent pootling along the canals as planned; instead, my husband and I put all our energies into transforming the house from top to bottom; we grew tomatoes and potatoes and basil; on my permitted daily walk I would head off armed with my camera down the local lanes.

I shall miss those ancient footpaths that lead off in all directions from the recently-sold house in south Somerset; it’s been an absolute joy exploring them during the last few months, seeing the new shoots of spring give way to summer wildflowers buzzing with insects.

I’ve seen foxes and squirrels and peacocks (really) on my lockdown walks. I’ve learnt the names of common wildflowers that were not common to me (forget-me-not and herb robert, anyone?). I saw that lots of bees rummage around the ground rather than in flowers – and I learned some of their names, too.

I took so many photos, a visual reminder of the strange months that saw me connect with a place I’ve known for over 30 years without ever fully appreciating; I shall miss Somerset, for sure.

The next adventures are back on the narrowboat – the green and wondrous Kennet and Avon to start with; I’m already itching for the stretch by Avoncliffe where the autumn trees cast golden reflections as far as the eye could see, looking forward to seeing them in full green summer leaf…

The next post will be from on board the good ship…

Until then, please stay safe and well,

Phil xx