Finding inner peas

February hit us like a slushy snowball landing on a woolly jumper then seeping through. We needed a rest and felt Noddfa calling us once again. We’d accepted an offer on our house, were in the process of buying a new one and I’d recently injured my knee (medial meniscus tear) at Airhop, whilst jumping from one inflatable semi-sphere to another. We needed to stop.

This would be our third visit to Noddfa, so we followed our usual routine once we’d dropped the kids off. As we stocked up for food at Filco we spotted a pebble nestled near some railings with a picture of some legumes and the phrase “inner peas”… a sign that we might find what we were craving? Then laden with food we hobbled (well, Kiri walked normally!) our way down through the woods to the place of refuge and retreat for the next 2 nights.

As soon as we were inside, the birds were at the bird feeder; within 5 minutes we’d seen a nuthatch, blue tits, coal tits, finches, and of course the squirrels! And with no agenda and no responsibilities we just watched them. The heat from the log burner soon filled the cabin and we settled in for some intentional nothingness. It had been a couple of years since our last visit, and whilst some things were new (larger power pack, a few missing trees outside), much was the same and I spent some time perusing the guest book musing on how different folk interpret the section “recommendations”. Some gave suggestions for other visitors (the Pear Kitchen in Cowbridge particularly had rave reviews), some gave suggestions for the owner (a skylight above the bed?), but my favourite was a left-field recommendation that if you’re ever in Kathmandu, there’s a certain cafe that is sublime. Noted!

With watches removed from our wrists, but time on our hands we checked to see if it was time for tea. Half past 3… probably a bit too early, so instead we cracked open a beer and had a few games of Kingdomino before taking a break to pray for world tensions. It was telling that the most significant event of the afternoon was a woodpecker on the bird feeder – this pace of life is fantastic. In the fading light, Kiri went off for a walk while I rested my leg, then we had a simple pasta dinner. With no concept of time we considered heading to bed, but realised it was only half past 7, so we delayed that decision to play crib, before succumbing an hour later. The hooting of owls were the final sounds as we drifted to sleep.

Twelve hours later we emerged, incredibly refreshed after just one good catch up of sleep. Noddfa routine kicked in. Light fire. Make coffee. Cook eggs. Consume. Then… well, no plans. Watch the birds. What an absolute joy and privilege to return to the slow and simple. When it was time to wash up, with no hot water on tap, we had to take time to boil a kettle, then the washing up was accompanied by Kiri playing the guitar. We received news that the kids had expended their energy at Jump Jam the previous day and were now en route to see some dinosaurs at Fonmon Castle after having eaten pancakes for breakfast. Their needs were being met as were ours.

As we slowly pondered the day, we dreamed about what a future life might look like for us in Wales; involving coppicing of hazel, willow, making charcoal…? Who knows. The previous Autumn we’d both attended the National Coppicing Federation Gathering which had provided much food for thought. I’d also done a short venison butchery course there, culminating in me happily consuming 4 barbecued venison steaks that evening… which reminded us we needed to get some food for lunch! On this annual visit to Waitrose it only seemed appropriate to purchase venison burgers, then as we squeezed back into the van in the car park (trying hard not to hit the porsche parked next to us) we considered whether we should go anywhere or do anything.

Nah. The low temperature warning light was on in the van, there was slight mizzle outside and we decided we didn’t need to do. We could just enjoying being. So we headed back to Noddfa, rekindled the fire and had a scotch egg! A low key afternoon followed where we spent some time reading the story of Jesus offering living water then praying together. The plan had been that Kiri would head back out for a walk, but the rain had truly set in, so whilst Kiri sketched, I whittled a small knife out of birch.

The venison burgers were epic, especially when accompanied with herb-infused olives (only parsley short of Scarborough Fair) and wine. We love our kids, but it’s so good (and necessary!) to invest time to just be Kiri and Steve. The wine continued into the evening (this time accompanying games of King Domino and Crib) and we made sure we’d done our Welsh Duolingo for the day before we then settled down for the night with rain pattering inches above our heads, like many nights we’d had in Bertha.

It was only a 2 night stay this time in Noddfa, but we made the most of the slow morning following mumbled eggs (scrambled eggs with mushrooms) for breakfast, before catching our first glimpse of sunshine. Watching the birds for one last time before we said “hwyl am nawr”, I reflected that in the wild, birds have to work hard to find food. At the feeder, they find high protein food that they don’t work hard for. Likewise Noddfa generously gives us rest that we haven’t worked hard for.

It’s never easy to leave the stillness, peace and calm, but we knew that we would be able to carry some of that back into our lives and be sustained by it as we faced the coming months that would be full of change.