A slow summer day in the garden
Summer days, spent doing simple of things - gardening, a walk with the dogs and supper outside as the evening light settles over the valley

A simple summer salad recipe, an evening in the garden, a happy dog, and the soundtrack of kites overhead.
There is a particular kind of contentment that only a day spent in the garden can bring.
The sort of day where you lose all sense of time between deadheading, watering and gently coaxing plants back into shape. The flower border asks for “just one more job,” which inevitably becomes three, yet somehow it never feels like work.
As the afternoon softened into evening, I took one last look across the garden before putting the tools away. The border is reaching that glorious point in midsummer where everything seems to have found its place. Soft pink hydrangeas mingle with the fresh greens of the shrubs, while the white Shasta daisies dance above the planting, catching every breath of the warm breeze. The old oak sleepers frame the border beautifully now, giving structure to what is otherwise a wonderfully relaxed tapestry of colour and texture.
Before supper there was, of course, time for a walk.
Our faithful four-legged companion was already waiting by the gate, eager for an adventure through the long summer grasses. We wandered across the cut hay fields and where sheep grazed peacefully beneath magnificent old oaks, completely unhurried by the world. The meadows shimmered in the late afternoon sunshine, and every now and then the only sound was the gentle rustle of grass as our dog bounded happily ahead, disappearing and reappearing like a bouncing teddy bear.
Returning home always feels special after a countryside walk. The garden somehow seems even more welcoming.
The evening light settled across the lawn, illuminating the borders that had occupied so much of the day. Above us, the kites had begun their evening conversations, their unmistakable chattering drifting from the motte beyond the garden. It has become one of those sounds that signals the close of another beautiful summer’s day here—a soundtrack as familiar as birdsong itself.
There is something wonderfully satisfying about eating outdoors after gardening. Nothing elaborate is needed, just fresh, seasonal ingredients that celebrate summer.
One of my favourite combinations is this Strawberry & Roasted Pecan Salad. Sweet British strawberries, warm roasted pecans, peppery leaves and creamy feta are brought together with a simple balsamic dressing. It feels light enough for a warm evening but substantial enough to enjoy after a day spent outdoors.
Strawberry & Roasted Pecan Salad
Ingredients
5–6 cups baby spinach or mixed leaves
250g fresh strawberries, hulled and sliced
¾ cup roasted pecans
100g feta cheese, crumbled
½ small red onion, finely sliced
Optional handful of dried cranberries
For the dressing
3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
1 tsp Dijon mustard
1 tsp honey
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Method
Roast the pecans at 180°C for around 6–8 minutes until fragrant. Whisk together the dressing ingredients before gently combining the salad leaves, strawberries, feta, onion and cooled pecans. Drizzle over the dressing just before serving.
Simple, colourful and bursting with summer flavours.
As the sun slowly dips lower, the pace of the day changes once again. Gardening gloves are forgotten, the watering can rests by the greenhouse and supper is enjoyed beneath an open sky. The borders become silhouettes, the sheep settle for the evening beyond the hedge, and the kites continue their calls overhead as dusk quietly arrives.
These are the moments that remind me why I love gardening so much. Not because every plant is perfect, or every border immaculate, but because gardens create the backdrop for life’s simplest pleasures—a long walk with the dog, fresh food shared outdoors, and the gentle satisfaction that comes from a day well spent.
Summer has a wonderful way of encouraging us to slow down.
Perhaps that’s its greatest gift of all.
Ready to discover the Black Mountain?
Every stay begins with a slower pace of life.




