Although we did not catch it at its summer best, there must be something said about its beauty.
Overlooking the Derwent river, the Woodbridge hotel keeps a comforting country aura
in a marriage of scented blooms and gravel alongside shaped stone steps to a plateau of plush lawn.
The owner who led us to our room must've thought I was an idiot
as I dropped my bags and headed straight out our private door to the gardens
to throw my arms out to the view, desperate to offer my joy at the splendor of it all.
Our window looked out into the garden
and everytime we returned from an action packed outing,
the view of its garden always brought a smile to my face.
How could such colour not bring a sense of contentment?
A thick mist blanketed the landscape on our first morning,
yet I donned my raggy sweater and leggings to duck barefoot across the sharp gravel
to breathe in the brisk morning air and wriggle my toes in the dewy grass.
All in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the platypus the owners mentioned lived on the banks.
The owners said to treat Woodbridge as our home.
It was far more.
It became an oasis and santuary for my soul.