The first British asparagus of the year is an eagerly awaited treat. Its season traditionally begins on St George’s Day and runs for six weeks or so. It’s a short-lived window of opportunity that makes us savour every spear that we eat.

We’re lucky to have three asparagus farms very close by, two of which provide a pick your own option. This year, our first trip out to pick was to Rectory Farm at Stanton St John.

There, below the watchful eye of a Red Kite circling overhead, the pale sandy earth, raised in ridges that run the length of the fields, looks unpromisingly barren. But this is perfect asparagus growing territory. All along the ridges, green and purple spears spike through the soil; sometimes singly, sometimes in small groups. We opt for the thickest spears, which promise to be the tenderest and most juicy. Unlike our other local PYO, Rectory Farm doesn’t provide knives, so be prepared to leave with sandy fingernails and soily hands.

Although it’s a beautiful spot, we pick as quickly as possible. After all nothing tastes as good as asparagus that has gone from field to plate in under an hour. But there is plenty more to enjoy at Rectory Farm if you’ve time to linger. There’s a farm shop stocked with ready picked fruit and veg, and a range of local products. And Barefoot Café provides tempting handmade cakes and seasonal light meals.

Back home the asparagus is the star of a simple weekend lunch, with just melted butter, a soft-boiled egg, and brown bread to go with it. But if you aren’t planning to eat straight away you can preserve some of that newly picked freshness by standing your bundle of spears in a pot of water.

While the asparagus season itself may not last long, it marks the beginning of many more Pick Your Own outings, with plenty to look forward to in the months ahead. We’ll be back again to sample more of Rectory Farm’s produce throughout the summer, and no doubt find time for a slice of cake during one of our future visits.

Images by Helen Duncan

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On a sunny spring day we head off in search of bluebells in Bodlondeb Woods, near the historic seaside town of Conwy. We follow the path from the quay, where a row of terraced dwellings boasts the smallest house in Wales, and walk along the estuary with its bobbing boats. Across the water Deganwy is highlighted by the bright yellow of flowering gorse. Behind us there are views of Conwy Castle, with its eight sturdy towers.

As we near the mouth of the estuary we turn inland. Bodlondeb translated from the Welsh means contentment, and there can be no better way to reach such a state than by walking through a bluebell wood in spring. Dappled light crosses the steps that lead up and onto paths through the trees and scrub. The bluebells don’t disappoint, interspersed at times with celandines, greater stitchwort and wood anemones. And beyond them we catch glimpses of another blue; the sea.

At the top of the hill we find a peaceful spot with a bench, and watch as a buzzard circles overhead. Long-tailed tits flit through the thicket in front of us, and queen bees busily zig-zag over the ground in search of suitable nest sites. We can see Conwy Mountain in the distance.

This would be a perfect picnic spot, if only we had remembered to pack one, but we’re consoled by the thought of Tan Lan Bakery in the town, which sells the most delicious cakes (their pineapple tarts are a must)! Ambling on, we make our way out of the woodland, through Bodlondeb Park and back towards the town walls. Within minutes we’re back in the hustle and bustle of the town, and ready to enjoy Conwy’s independent shops, cafes and restaurants.

Images by Helen Duncan

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The City of Ely is one of our favourite places to visit during the early part of the year. Surrounded by wide skies and open fenland, it radiates a sense of spaciousness that seems magical in such a small place; all calm and contemplative, and far from the stresses of the daily grind.

It’s a city of old stone walls and tall twisted chimneys, cozy cafes, and, of course, a famous cathedral. A bracing riverside walk out of the city gave us the best views of this, the Ship of the Fens, with its impressive towers and marvelous lantern.

Our route back brought us into the marina, past Babylon Arts, to the inviting Peacock tearoom, and Waterside Antiques. The latter, spread over three sprawling floors and packed to the rafters, is a much-loved haunt. We have lost ourselves for hours poring over precariously stacked pieces of china and shelf upon shelf of vintage glasses, rummaging through antique prints, and rooting through boxes of old tradesmen’s tools. Jewellery sparkles in the cabinets at the entrance, silverware shines, and old glass bottles catch the remnants of afternoon light along the window sills. It’s the perfect place for anyone with a magpie’s eye.

Up creaking staircases we climb and make our way, oh so slowly, through room after room stuffed with curios and paraphernalia, full of delight as to what we might uncover next.  In dreary weather there’s no better tonic than to bag some inexpensive treasures and to return home with a head full of new ideas for styling the house.

Images by Helen Duncan

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Choosing the tree is one of those magical Christmas moments. In the dimness of a December afternoon we head off down the country lanes from the house to Hengrove Farm on the edge of Appleton in West Oxfordshire. Full of anticipation, we know we are in for a treat.

It may not look promising from the outside, but each year this unassuming agricultural building is transformed into a wonderland of magic and sparkle – Appleton Christmas Barn – festive enough to brighten the dullest of winter days.

There are Christmas trees of every type and size, from the needle-retaining Nordman Firs and Scots Pines to traditional Norway Spruce, and the pretty Serbian and Blue varieties. The smell is divine.

Tucked away in a corner, behind a forest of trees and banks of hay bales, the Barn’s resident reindeer snooze peacefully.

Reindeer admired, and tree chosen, it’s on to the decorations – an Aladdin’s cave packed full of bright baubles and glistening trinkets. There are tree ornaments and garlands, fairy lights and lanterns, ribbons and wrapping paper – all under one roof.

The Christmas Barn’s helpful and friendly staff will carry your chosen tree to your car. And having selected one or two new decorations (an annual tradition) we’re off back home for mince pies and mulled wine. Let the decorating begin!

Images by Helen Duncan

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Towards the end of the year, the Lost Gardens of Heligan are ablaze with fiery colours and wonderfully quiet. It’s a great time to visit, as autumn’s glory gives way to festive fun.

There are lovely wintery walks to take around the woodland pathways and Lost Valley. Here copper-coloured leaves carpet the floor and bare branches make dramatic outlines against the sky.

In the melon yard, pumpkins are piled high in a jolly display. The smell of seaweed being spread over the vegetable patches fills the air. There’s a sense of calm – of the year being put to bed – that is extremely restful.

Heligan’s shop is full of treats and is the perfect place to find gifts for gardeners and wildlife lovers. There’s a nursery too, and during November and December it hosts a pop-up Christmas shop full of pretty decorations.

Don’t miss neighbouring Lobbs Farm Shop, particularly if you are staying in self-catering accommodation, as we did in the nearby village of Pentewan with its quirky café, traditional pub and lovely sandy cove.

Images by Helen Duncan

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To the west of Oxford, beyond the city’s dreaming spires, lie Wytham Woods. This expanse of ancient woodland stretches above the pretty village of Wytham with its thatched cottages and cosy pub. There are no signs to the woods from the road and, once there, no café, no shop. Just acres of oak and ash, beech and sycamore, spread over two hills that nestle in a bend in the river Thames.

The woods are a fine place to be on an autumnal day, away from the bustle of the city, and full of sights and sounds to enjoy. We find a spindleberry tree all ablaze – it’s leaves flickering in the breeze like flames; the pink pincushion-shaped berries still in tact, but soon to reveal the clash of bright orange seeds within. Elsewhere, prickly sweet chestnuts litter the floor, their shiny treasure held tight in fur lined cases. A silver birch is studded with bracket fungi. A Speckled Wood rests on a patch of nettles. A buzzard cries overhead.

We wander beneath the canopy, at times passing through densely wooded avenues, watching as the light breaks through the trees in golden shafts. At others, we find ourselves skirting the woodland’s edges, which give way to some of the finest views of the city below and the flat of the valley.

In medieval times monks on pilgrimage from Cirencester to Canterbury would burst into song as they glimpsed these same views: joyful realisation of the promise of food and shelter awaiting them. Their route is still known as the Singing Way.

Today the woods are an important research site – a living laboratory – owned by the University of Oxford; but walkers (without dogs) are welcomed – just apply for a permit, which comes with a hand-drawn map, before you visit.

Images by Helen Duncan & courtesy of Piers Nye on Flickr

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Ness Botanical Gardens: a jewel on the Wirral Peninsula; bold, bright, and a feast of horticultural delights.

We visited the gardens in summer, but they are a place for all seasons, with a stunning collection of snowdrops in the spring, followed by a magnificent display of magnolias, camellias and rhododendrons leading into the warmer months. Later in the year you’ll find the vibrant colours of autumn, especially when the Rowan trees come into their own, all glowing berries and fiery leaves. And in winter there are clear views across the Dee estuary to the Welsh Clwydian Hills beyond.

We started our visit by ambling down through the heather garden, past the ponds and pools of the water garden, and out into the wildflower meadows overlooking the saltmarshes of the Dee. A froth of colour in June and July, buzzing with bees and butterflies, they had become a mass of gold and oatmeal interspersed with white umbellifers; swathes of seed heads, wild and beautiful.

Then it was time for something more formal; the well-kept rectangular beds of the herbaceous gardens. These stunning borders took our breath away and filled our heads with dream planting plans. Pure inspiration!

I lingered in the Victorian style potager with its pretty glasshouse, admiring row upon row of brightly-coloured chard, and green and purple brassicas, sweet peas, and calendula flowers. More dreaming followed.

The bees lingered too, enjoying the nectar-rich flowers of the heliotrope and lavender; a purple runway leading towards the raised beds.

A walk through the pine woods, cool and calm, brought us back to the main gardens, and when our legs had finally given up, we headed to the Garden Kitchen café for a relaxing al fresco lunch. There was just time to snap up a pot of deliciously fragrant lemon verbena from the selection of plants on sale, before heading home.

Images by Helen Duncan

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Up above Dunraven bay, where giant sea-rolled pebbles lie, there’s a secret garden. You’ll find it nestled in to the sloping sides of Witches Point beneath the ruins of Dunraven Castle.

Inside, there are deep borders filled with marguerites and lilies, swathes of lady’s mantle, and stately spires of acanthus. All the while, around the edges, rampant bindweed, tall heads of cow parsley, and clambering ivy retain an air of abandonment.

There’s an orchard where gnarled apple trees wander off into the thicket of tall grasses, and blackcurrant bushes stand in neat rows (we can’t resist picking a berry or too). Ancient mulberry bushes hold memories of the garden’s past in their dark leaves.

Another near-forgotten fruit, the medlar, grows on a bush near the doorway at the top of the garden, leading out into the woodland beyond and on to a spectacular viewing point.

Back out on the cliff-top path, with the wind on our faces, the sheer surprise of finding this secret shelter on the weather-beaten coast, hits us all the more strongly.

Images by Helen Duncan & Archangel12 on Flickr

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If ever a landscape evoked the legends of old, the Glamorgan coast must surely be it. And Ogmore Castle stands out as one of its most captivating characters. Many feet have crossed the string of stepping stones that lead to its ruins, glad of the touch of solid stone as the clear water of the Ewenny river rushes by.

Horses from the nearby farm, unperturbed by the gentle current, cross the river to graze after a morning’s trek. There are plenty of opportunities to explore this fascinating area on horseback; but we approach the castle from the vast maze of sand dunes that make up Merthyr Mawr Warren on foot.

Breaking out of the warren’s undulating landscape we head down to the coastal path and walk along the beach towards Ogmore-by-Sea until we reach the river mouth. Following the river in land takes us in the direction of Ogmore’s ruins, but there are two other landmarks to discover on the way. So we take a detour to the left and head back into the dunes in search of Candleston Castle and the steeply sloping banks of The Big Dipper, one of the highest sand dunes in all of Europe.

Beyond the dunes lies the picturesque village of Merthyr Mawr with its pretty thatched cottages and an array of Celtic Christian stones grouped in a shelter outside St Teilo’s Church.

Leaving the village a smart white footbridge marks the start of the final lap of our journey: Ogmore Castle, our destination, clearly visible across the fields. Traversing the dunes in the July heat has left us hot and thirsty, making the sight of Ogmore Farm tea room, just across from the castle, all the more welcome. Outside in the garden we choose a painted picnic bench where we rest our weary legs and enjoy a hearty homemade lunch in the company of the farm’s chickens. As we pass the kitchen on our way out we are grateful for a re-fill of our water bottles to keep us going on our walk back across the fields to Laleston.

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To catch Bodnant Garden’s laburnum arch in full bloom is a treat. Walking beneath the cascades of yellow flowers is like moving though a tunnel of sunlight, a magical occurrence that comes just once a year.

But the garden is a sight to see in any month. The laburnum blossom follows the spring-time spectacular of gaudy rhododendrons and azaleas; summer promises the romance of roses; while in autumn the trees take centre stage.

It’s a garden of contrasts too; of wilderness and formal planting; intimate corners and expansive views; flowers to enjoy close-up and towering trees to marvel at from afar.

From the laburnum arch, a walk through a sweeping meadow, with views across to the Carneddau Mountains, leads to the sudden seclusion of the newly-opened yew dell. As we wander on sweet woodruff, ferns and Welsh poppies line the stream that rushes down to the lake then plunges, full torrent, into the main dell below. It meanders on towards the old mill (where tea is served) past giant redwoods and accompanied by lush planting of hostas and irises.

Climbing back up through the valley we reach the formal gardens, where intricate brick paths, rectangular beds, and softly painted pergolas and obelisks lend structure to blousy planting schemes.

We are watched by two serene sphinxes whose gaze across the Italianate canal terrace to the mountains and Snowdonia beyond. They remind me to look up and take in the stunning surroundings.

It’s not only the toil of five generations of the same family that has made the garden such a special place, but its setting in one of the most beautiful corners of North Wales.

If you’re planning a visit, don’t miss the Welsh Food Centre at nearby Furnace Farm on the Bodnant Estate, which is packed full of local produce – both to eat in and take-away!

Images courtesy of ★ɱark and Jaypeg on Flickr

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