the cotswold's

I’m looking down the calendar at the end of the school year and our holiday in Colorado, and Paul’s scheduled all kinds of weekend outings to help make the time pass even more quickly. We spent last Saturday night in the Cotswold’s soaking up the slow and relaxing English countryside. Just two and a half hours from London, and we were sleeping in a farmhouse B&B surrounded by fields of rye, hillside meadows with sheep, and geese cackling in the yard next door.
We spent Saturday in Broadway surrounded by honey-colored stone buildings and Sunday walking on a public footpath through fields of emerald green grass. On our walk, we passed through a storybook hamlet called Laverton, the archetypal English village. I expected to see Winnie the Pooh or Peter Rabbit around every bend even though they are from different counties altogether. The profusion of roses both domestic and wild are astonishing this time of year, and the air was heavy with their heady scent.