Romance and the English Countryside
A love letter to The Cotswolds, Kelmscott Manor and boring girl summers
I recently finished a two-week housesit in The Cotswolds. The home, a cottage in the 17th Century village of Southrop and built of Cotswold stone, backed onto quiet fields, had a veg patch, bantam chickens and a cheeky Fox Terrier that would be our faithful companion for the time we were there.
After almost a month up in the Yorkshire Dales we were excited to be heading back down to the sunny south - and our hopes were very much welcomed with open arms: Full sunshine for the entire stay, fields abundant with wildflowers, bees and nature in all its glory.
England’s bucolic spirit in summer is unlike anywhere on earth. Perhaps it’s because we long for it all year round, so when it does show its face it’s all the more spectacular.
Where we stayed was so unspoilt and quiet that I felt far removed from modern life. Each summer, hoards of tourists descend on Gloucestershire for its olde worlde market towns and Insta-worthy cobbled streets, but Southrop (outside of the Thyme estate) remains untouched.
I basked in this feeling daily—everything seemed to be going in my favour.
Summer makes anything feel possible.
Sunshine on your bones heals all wounds.
And the countryside is as restorative as it gets.
Surrounded by nature and history that’s steeped in the dry-stone walls - the countryside is where many a story was born.
Tolkien, and The Lord of the Rings, for example, is a deep ode to nature with lines like, “When Summer lies upon the world, and in a noon of gold, Beneath the roof of sleeping leaves the dreams of trees unfold; When woodland halls are green and cool, and wind is in the West, Come back to me! Come back to me, and say my land is best!”
And long inspiration to Tolkien, was William Morris. Who’s old summer home just so happened to be around the corner from us in neighbouring town, Lechlade.
Father of the arts and crafts movement, Kelmscott was the setting that inspired the majority of work. Their home was radically modest - minimalist for the time. They also rented the house, making me feel better about my property situation (or lack thereof).
The Morris’ were as romantic as they come…
“I have heard people miscalled for being romantic, but what romance means is the power of making the past part of the present.”
- William Morris, 1891
The home, built circa 1600, lies adjacent to The Thames, and is a masterpiece in craftsmanship - walls are emblazoned with his famous handblocked print wallpaper and adorned with hand-woven tapestries, and artwork by good friend, Rossetti.
But, one room in particular stood out to me - the bedroom.
William loved his bed - something I can attest to wholeheartedly - there is no better place on earth than one’s bed. He loved it so much that he wrote a poem about it and I’d like to share it with you…
The wind's on the wold
And the night is a-cold,
And Thames runs chill
'Twixt mead and hill.
But kind and dear
Is the old house here
And my heart is warm
'Midst winter's harm.
Rest then and rest,
And think of the best
'Twixt summer and spring,
When all birds sing
In the town of the tree,
And ye in me
And scarce dare move,
Lest earth and its love
Should fade away
Ere the full of the day.
I am old and have seen
Many things that have been;
Both grief and peace
And wane and increase
No tale I tell
Of ill or well,
But this I say:
Night treadeth on day,
And for worst or best
Right good is rest.
It’s perhaps best bookmarked to read in winter when we tend to linger under the sheets for longer, but I think it captures beautifully the view of one’s home as a sanctuary. Something, I’m having to come to terms with not having at the moment.
Instead, I’m finding it in other things, like my partner, my books, my yoga practice, being out in nature and spirituality. All things that root me to the earth and keep “lostness” at bay.
I left Kelmscott feeling very inspired. We arrived back at the housesit, and after letting the chickens out of the coop, picking fresh sweet peas for the house and walking the dog, I felt very at peace and affirmed that what we are doing is the right thing.
The life we want to live is one entrenched with simplicity and heart. A life that dances alongside the seasons. A life that allows us to tell stories, make art and live soulfully. Not dependent on earning x amount of money, wearing x label of clothing or driving x make of car.
Since quitting my corporate job to pursue a full-time creative career I’ve been forced to slow down and it’s not been easy. Brene Brown says it best, “It takes courage to say yes to rest and play in a culture where exhaustion is seen as a status symbol.”
Rest and play are something I still need to force myself to partake in every day. So, if you need some, please take this letter as a sign to do so.
You have my full written permission to escape, frolic and snooze this summer.
A recent Substack by You’ve Got Lauren brought a smile to my face. Her “Boring Girl Summer” is free of holidays and plans, and instead, bursting at the seams with simple pleasures, “This year I have an endless reading list, a wonderful husband, and I’m only a few blocks from the ocean. This year the backyard is bursting with peonies and figs—nectarines are right around the corner. Don’t let my empty calendar fool you, my days will be full and rich with pleasures.”
You can read her tips on how to have a Boring Girl Summer in the link above.
And if you need a soundtrack to accompany your boring girl summer, look no further than the attached playlist that’s as sweet as honey and smooth as silk.
Till next time!
