So here we are. Home.
In our other home, halfway around the world. Where pieces of our hearts remain, no matter how long it is since we were last here.
Where wonder and expectation are found in all the little things.
Like different cereal for breakfast.
And a different postal system.
Eating apples fresh from the apple tree in the garden.
And the utter excitement at seeing these guys frolicking in the garden is renewed each morning with shouts of 'squirrel, squirrel' echoing throughout the house.
The Old Barn - home for the next 3 weeks. Where a warm welcome awaits as it has every visitor for the last 300 years.
Where early morning walks bring sunrises and opportunities for contemplation.
The Ham Hill Country Park is the UK's largest Iron Age hill fort, today complete with its own mini tribute to its much larger cousin Stonehenge less than an hour up the road. The hill overlooks the whole village and recent archaeological digs have discovered gruesome stories of a massacre in days gone by. The whole area is as big as 123 football pitches and only a tiny portion has been excavated to date but it is incredible to think what other stories may lie buried beneath the now quiet country hillside.
Back at home the sprawling garden envelops and accommodates much fun.
The swing seat a happy memory for Noah from our last visit when he was a mini version of himself.
A few apples remain on the trees but the pears have mostly fallen.
A warm welcome awaits all visitors.
And a walk in the village brings more new UK postal experiences.
A Postman Pat's lookalike van discovered and the old Post Office box.
The local park bringing opportunities for free play amongst falling leaves.
And then a special afternoon wiled away with a visit from family - Grandma's two older brothers (top middle). Made even more special as John (2nd from right) lives in South Africa and flew home the very next day. Serendipitous timing for us all to be together.
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