A Dull Woman's Van Life

February 2026

After two weeks of work travel, it has been a joy to return to the gentle rhythm of Helmshore and the familiar comfort of home.

The past week has been spent quietly indulging in winter walks, always in the company of Pepper, and cooking some serious soul food to nourish both body and mind after the busyness of recent weeks.

Merlin, meanwhile, has been driving me quietly mad — first with the elusive long-eared owl (picked up again, but not seen, on Tuesday morning), and then with the daily reminder of the American robin’s song. It has been seen… just not by me. So I shall keep looking, keenly and hopefully.

After months of trying to catch sight of a treecreeper, I’ve come to the conclusion that they’re rather like buses: wait forever, and then another one appears. One obligingly posed for me again this morning.

True to wildlife photography form, not all the pictures were winners — but I do love this one of it caught in awkward flight.

“Our” deer have also been growing bolder in their visits to the bird table. It’s usually just a single buck, coming down to feast on the leftover apples and carrots I leave out, but this week he brought the whole family. Returning from an afternoon walk, Pepper was utterly outraged to find five of them clustered around the bird table. One sharp bark was enough to send them bounding back to the safety of the field.

As the days settle back into their familiar pattern, I’m reminded how restorative it is to return to places that ask nothing of you except to notice them. The quiet paths, the watchful woods, the small dramas of birds and deer — all of it gently draws the edges back in after weeks spent outward-facing and fast.

There is comfort in these winter days: in warm food simmering on the stove, in muddy boots by the door, in the simple pleasure of walking without a schedule. Helmshore has a way of softening the noise, of reminding me that rest is not idleness, but a necessary pause — a rebalancing — before the world calls again.