Tell me about your Sundays, what are they like?
My Sundays vary greatly but the general rule is this: no chores (except for laundry because I always seem to forget about that until Sunday afternoon…). Saturdays are for running errands while Sundays are for slowing down and seeking out adventure.
Boots on, thermos filled and camera in hand, we are usually out the door before the rest of the city wakes. I feel so incredibly lucky to live in a place with a beautiful lake and forest parks not five minutes from my front door. A little further afield and I can find myself among soaring mountain ranges, wide open plains or on a winding road toward the coast. Time spent quietly and reverently exploring in nature is my therapy and certainly my favourite way to spend a Sunday.
What would you say is the ideal book for a Sunday?
After a bit of adventuring, there is always time in the afternoon to curl up by the fire or lay out in the garden with a book in hand. On Sundays, I tend to reach for familiar prose that will wrap me up in a comforting embrace and lead me softly into the week ahead - from the lives and loves of the Bennets (Pride and Prejudice) or the Marches (Little Women), to the well trodden adventures within the wonderfully crafted worlds of Harry Potter or the Wildwood Chronicles. The poetry of Mary Oliver brings me words when I have none of my own and, oddly yet not so odd at all, any of Nigel Slater’s culinary tomes are a joy to fall into.
How would you describe the perfect Sunday?
The perfect Sunday would be, to me, not so dissimilar to my current Sundays. The formula of tea + nature + books would remain the same, with a few variables.
I would wake in my favourite cabin in the mountains and start the morning on the porch, a warm blanket wrapped around cold shoulders, listening to the rush of the river and waiting for the sun to rise. Over pancakes and bacon we would plan out our day - a long walk through a beautiful and beloved alpine area dotted with snow gums and wildflowers and not a single soul around. Inspiration and contentment abounds. Weary from the mountain air, it would be back to the cabin and a roaring fire for cups of hot cocoa and - my greatest indulgence - someone to read aloud to me before I gently nod off to sleep. It would be rather wonderful if, while I am cat napping, that same person could do the laundry (oh wait - this is a perfect Sunday so there would be no laundry!) and fix a lovely dinner too. Perfect indeed.
Photography: Kate Amelia @netherleigh