Winter in Somerset is beautiful. We are in the South-West of England so we have a more temperate climate than, say, Scotland, or the East coast of England. Palm trees grow down here. The sun seems to shine the most gorgeous shade of amber and the light is very bright but warm. The skies are very blue by day and filled with the most brightest of twinkliest stars by night.

We have been to local late night shopping evenings (the purpose of which seems to be to gather the village to drink mulled wine, listen to carols, to watch stilt walkers and to peruse the darling little village shops which include a butcher, a cheese shop, a lovely florist and the teeniest of shops with low beamed ceilings and an open log fire, where you can buy simple silk night wear, silver and gemstone jewellery and hand made beeswax candles.

We have been to a carol service; listened to little ones give readings and many little ones sing tradition carols. “Away in a Manger”; “Little Donkey”.

We have been walking. Up on the moor; along the beach. Wrapped up warm in cashmere scarves and tweed coats and shiny new Timberland boots (which both look good and have ‘proper’ treads.

We have become more used to living in the countryside. Bought grit and salt for our road for the ice. New tyres for the car.

And a tree. Did I mention the tree? An itty bitty little tree which was grown down the road and fits perfectly in his new home on top of a filing cabinet, dressed in vintage baubles.

{all photos by me, using hipstamatic app for Iphone}