Tucked away in deepest Sussex; hidden amongst the ancient trees and rolling countryside is a house;
a very old house with tall chimneys, the type of which is usually found only in fairytales;
where a lady lives with her cat, (black of course);
a house where I stayed as I picked up my Sussex threads again.
The house has witnessed hundreds of years of change,
standing strong despite the 1980s storm that mercilessly tore the surrounding trees from the ground.
Glimpsed in the twilight, shadowed by the overhanging trees that cling to the hillside and blending harmoniously into its surroundings, the house shimmers with mystery;
the windows gazing out over the forest and countryside,
and down into the garden and surrounding woodland.
As dusk fell, I heard the heavy front door latch click and leaning over the window sill I could see our hostess slip out, past the ancient box hedge at the front of the house; a long shoulder to ankle cape shielding her from the inclement weather.
The area is known to be associated with witchcraft and the nearby Inn is called "The Witch", so it was little wonder that my mobile phone mysteriously lost an hour and I should dream of flying over the tree tops that I had viewed from my bedroom window.
The house - once upon a time thatched; offers a warm welcome to the weary traveller
with a huge inglenook fireplace that is lit on a cold evening.
This amazing house, steeped in history has been my base for the past few days, during which time I seized the opportunity to visit other places which I shall share with you in the next three posts.