The Unfolding of Ferns

I’ve always loved ferns. But I’ve never paid too much attention to how their leaves appear in spring. Until this week, that is.

It’s mesmerising.

First, the stems unroll upwards; the tightly coiled spirals defying gravity as they reach for the sun. Then each individual leaf unfurls - some to the right, some to the left. It’s as if each stem is flinging out its arms with a flourish at the end of some carefully choreographed dance.

The unwinding curls remind me of bass clefs…..the music to accompany the dance, perhaps.

It's amazing the drama that's unravelling on the moors; playing to an audience of a wide open sky.....

Let the Magic Commence!

So…..I’ve been plotting and scheming and planning and dreaming. And finally it’s time to say it out loud.

Some of you know that I’ve been wanting to host retreats here at Dixon Hill. And with each day that passes, it seems I’m getting more hints and requests and pleas from folk who want me to do just that.

Well, it’s going to happen! Dixon Hill Retreats will soon be a reality. But to help me give you the all-out-wonderful time you deserve and hanker after, I’m asking for a bit of input.

For instance, what time of year would you most like to be here? In April when there are daffodils and lambs just everywhere? As the leaves unfurl in May and bluebells grace the woodland floor? During June’s lushness, when the gardens positively burst with colour and the fields are seas of buttercups? In July to spend happy afternoons on the hills, gorging on ripe bilberries? In August, when the heather blooms purple and the moors are at their most jaw-droppingly spectacular? In September, when the hedgerows are laden with hips and haws and there are blackberries for the picking? Or in October as the year slips into autumn and wood smoke curls into the air?

BUT…..wait! There’s more. Because - ta-da-da! - I’m also planning an Italian jaunt for next year (yes, you read that right). We’re talking an old farmhouse in southern Italy complete with swimming pool and fully equipped arts studio. Where professional chefs are just waiting to feed us the most divine organic and local food…and a renowned massage therapist wants to lull us into a state of bliss. Where we can walk and cycle through almond and olive groves and explore the garden of Italy.

I know, I know. Sounds dull as ditchwater. You’re not remotely interested, right? (Tee, hee!)

Well, it's like this. If you have even the tiniest interest in creative holidays of any kind, it would help me SO MUCH if you would fill out my little survey below. The more information I can glean, the better I can serve you. It’ll take only a minute or so to answer the questions and COMMITS YOU TO NOTHING. Truly. (It’s anonymous so, unless you choose to tell me, I won’t even know it’s you.)

But this is the thing. I’ve discovered that when a group of creative souls gets together in a beautiful place, magic happens. Every time. And I want to unleash more of that magic into the world. It’s important, don’t you think? After all, who couldn’t use a little more stardust in their lives?

So please. Click below….and help me wave that magic wand.

Click here to take survey

Daily Delightful Discoveries

Very early one morning, I came upon a mass of coloured flags crowded into a small patch of moorland.  It was as if they'd grown and blossomed overnight.  But I'm guessing some kind of race was taking place later on... J



It’s a pretty lame name. One day I’ll bother to come up with something better. But Daily Delightful Discoveries is a practice I came up with at the beginning of this year.

Each day, I make a record of anything that causes me to break out in a smile or a giggle. It’s usually something small and frequently something fleeting. It’s just that, instead of letting the moment fly in and out of my dizzy brain, I notice it….and tuck it away for later.

I don’t actually go looking for DDDs. Just clock them whenever they occur and scribble them down when I get the chance. Recording events and impressions is powerful. The smallest things acquire significance. And keeping a record of my delightful discoveries helps deepen my appreciation of my amazing life and makes me feel rich.

Here are some recent ones. You might like to start cataloguing your own…

• A lime green car followed by a vivid yellow car ahead of me on the road


• A goose flying overhead, honking


• A friend standing in the sunlit doorway of her home, waiting to welcome her children back from school


• A pheasant basking in the sunshine


• A stream of vintage cars passing me on a usually deserted road


• An obliging toad who allowed me to photograph him for several minutes


• The Nippy Chippy (the name of a mobile fish ‘n’ chip van)


• A woodpecker on the fat ball I hang for the birds


• A very small boy at the supermarket singing Santa Claus is Coming to Town - word perfectly - at the top of his lungs. In May.


• Collecting a still-warm egg from one of my hens, moments after it had been laid


• Getting a row of seats all to myself on a plane


• A white horse with a pink saddle

Thank You, Squam!

What a difference a year can make!

Twelve months ago, I was pottering about in my own sweet, creative void - with no real direction or motivation. And certainly no fellow potterers - either local or virtual. I had only the vaguest idea what a blog was; and was totally unaware of the online creative community. I had never wielded a ‘proper’ camera. I had never been on a creative retreat.

But then came Squam. And it’s no exaggeration to say that my life was changed. Forever.

I now own a grown-up camera; and - sort of - know how to use it. Dixon Hill Diary is a cherished part of my life; and I’m inspired by following the blogs of friends and of strangers. I have a real life creative partner; and a growing and valued network of artist friends. I’ve been on two further retreats since that first trip to New Hampshire. And all sorts of exciting creative projects are bubbling their way into existence via my busy brain.

Tomorrow, women I now count as friends and acquaintances will be gathering by Squam Lake once more; their lives about to be enriched and transformed in as yet unknown ways. I wish I could be with them; but, since I’m not, I wish them every blessing that Squam Art Workshops can bestow.

I wish them the deep peace of a stunning landscape and the discovery of purpose. I wish them new skills and latent talent laid bare. I wish them laughter and fun. I wish them dreams and possibilities. I wish them great food and conversational wanderings through the woods.  I wish them quiet time on a dock, feet dangling in the lake.  I wish them self-discovery and fireside chats.  I wish them the cry of the loon at night. Most of all, I wish them new friends; and the encouragement and support of like-minded souls.

And Squam, know this: I’ll be back.

May at Dixon Hill

May at Dixon Hill has been about bluebells and forget-me-nots and dandelions. About cuckoos and chicks and owls.

Here’s three minutes worth of spring in the Pennines.

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com