Warm evenings sat by the fire pit. (photo by Linda Hermans Photography) There is a particular kind of summer that belongs to the Welsh borders... It is found in the long grass at the edges of the lanes, in the sound of swallows overhead, in the quiet light that settles over the hills at the end of the day. It is slower here. Softer. The sort of place where you remember how good it feels to wake with the birds, open the door to the morning air and let the day unfold without too much of a plan....

Photograph by Emma Croman Eating & Drinking on the Welsh Borders A Hergest Lee field guide.... Food here is not something you organise in advance. It follows the shape of the day — the weather, the distance you’ve walked, how long you spent admiring a view. Meals tend to happen when they should, not when a booking says they must. Imagine setting out across a ridge, down a tree-lined path, through quiet fields, and eventually a light appears in a window. That’s the real reservation. Dinner...

A gentle pilgrimage for objects with memory... I love antique shopping, but especially in Leominster. It’s not polished or overly curated — it’s slow, layered, and full of surprises. The kind of place where you wander without a plan, drift from shop to shop, and let the day unfold slowly. What I always notice is how calming it feels. You stop rushing. You start really looking — at the grain of wood, the worn edge of a bowl, the way something has clearly been used and loved. I’ve realised over...