My head is still swimming with visions of daffodils and tulips and narcissus at the National Trust Estate my friend and I visited yesterday. There were acres of blooming fruit trees, bulbs everywhere and the smell of spring humming around us. It was bliss. I brought home a pot of daffodils, and think dreamily of walking in the gardens and basking in the sun. I remember my mother talking about this place, which is close to where she used to live, and I can see why she loved to go there. The house is charming, too, warm and well furnished, and although large, it feels cosy and inviting. How fortunate that the property has been preserved and so lovingly cared for. The gardens are as marvelous as anything in Europe I've seen; elegant and colorful and full of huge old trees and bushes. The trip was a gift from my friend for last Christmas, and wow, what a present1
I wish I could say that it has inspired me to garden vigorously at home, but actually it has only made me determined to go back when the roses are blooming and the fruit is on the trees. It's a little bit of heaven, and I'd like to visit again.
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