Saturday morning and with an exciting to do list “buy potting soil” we decided to go to Kew Gardens to see if spring had actually arrived.
Arriving at the station we bought an impromptu picnic and after paying an extortionate entry fee (and that’s without the optional donation), we set off to walk around the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew.
Lush and green from the long, wet winter (and summer last year) we strolled along the paths. The nostalgic scent of childhood; wild garlic and cow parsley surrounded us and the sun desperately tried to break through.
Before long we found meadows of bluebells, the most perfect shade of periwinkle to compliment the fresh spring green around.
We stopped to sit on the grass and enjoy our picnic. Bird song and planes en route to Heathrow filled the air. The only downside to Kew.
After a lazy lunch we continued on, past the rhododendrons, past the azaleas, through the hot house of water lilies and the tropical palm house. The smell of warm soil filled the air.
Leaving Kew, we jumped on the overground train to go and buy the potting soil and after a long walk with a heavy bag, we returned to the little flat where we carefully repotted the plants now living on the roof terrace.
Kew Gardens it’s not, but in London, it’s a garden. We sat on the outdoor sofa, had a cup of tea and enjoyed the view of the city.