St. Werburgh’s City Farm

This weekend, Jason came to visit. On Saturday Rose, Jason, Ed, Aew and I went on a trip to the St. Werburgh’s City Farm, which is a small farm in central Bristol—within easy walking distance of our house. It was a beautiful day, bright and warm; it felt like spring had finally arrived.

The farm is across some allotments from Ed’s flat, so we walked alongside vegetable patches, rundown sheds and the few people who had come out to tend their vegetables in the sunshine. Blossom was coming out and there was that warm scented fuzziness to the air spring brings.

At the farm, Rose almost died of a cuteness overdose and insisted we visit as often as possible from now on, which I can’t say I object to. The young goats were in full frolicking mode; I was especially taken by this chap:

But the adult pigs were very happy to doze in the sun, the three of them snoring gently, tucked up against each other as they basked.

We agreed with them; after having lunch in the cafe at the farm (very good burgers) we went and sat in St. Andrews park until the shadows started to lengthen and the air became a little chilly.