Sunday Snowdrops

I have a thing for wandering around the gardens of posh country estates. I know next to nothing about flowers (my poor much missed Grandad George is probably watching over us all absolutely appalled by this having been a gardener) but I do know that I love how they look, how they smell, and how they make me feel.

Different flowers invoke different feelings to me, and there is nothing I admire more during the misery of February than Snowdrops, their delicate stems that appear in swathes and brave the crisp winter winds remind me to persevere through the tough stuff to get the joyous outcome at the end.

This weekend me and James popped back to Doddington Hall, a new favourite place of mine to visit since my trip before Christmas. Their gardens officially opened on sunday for the season and their speciality is bulbs, every sunday they are open for you to wander around the grounds admiring the landscape and the beautiful views along with the pretty flowers as new varieties begin to appear.


















Apparently, I had to post this last picture because James said it was the best thing we saw there, as Lister make old trucks. He will always choose engines over nature *sigh*

I am really regretting not just buying a season ticket for the gardens (£25), as I can see them being a new favourite haunt for the weekends. If you are nearby and fancy visiting it is £6 to get into the gardens, and when it is less wet there are hours worth of walks across the estate. The cafe is definitely worth wetting your whistle in too (best carrot cake I have ever eaten, no lie!)