A small personal journal about weather, gardens and slow travel.
The mornings are now cold enough to see your breath, and the light over the water has that thin silver quality that only lasts a few weeks. I spent two days cycling the old towpaths, stopping wherever a bench faced the right way.
Garlic, a row of tulips, and a stubborn rosemary that survived last winter in a pot by the door. Notes on soil, timing and what I would do differently are below.
One bag, one book, no fixed itinerary. A short list of the things that actually made trips better over the last five years.
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