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A Year of Cwm Cottage By Liberty Nimmo, February 2026
Liberty Nimmo is a dear friend of mine, and many of you will have kept up with her journey from travel agent to farmer. From the mean streets of Brackenbury Village to the rolling hills of Wales, on to the gentler lands of Gloucestershire, she has now very much settled in Herefordshire, Cwm Cottage to be precise.
A year in, she has done what she always does, which is to arrive somewhere and becomes part of it. She sits on the church council, helps with the Sunday service tech, occasionally reads a lesson, and seems to have a patchwork of friends of all ages across the county. Her garden, planned with care and no small amount of pride, is beginning to show winning shape and her house has blossomed into a warm heart of a home.
As her writing cheers me no end, I asked her to reflect on this past year. Even more heartening, she has agreed to write a monthly column for us.
The first yearly cycle in my enchanting red brick and sash windowed cottage in the Black Mountains in Herefordshire has been complete. Across the year I have revelled in watching the rhythms unfold. I can pretty much outline the exact points of the sun-baked summer’s evening spot in the garden or where the Spring morning light streams through the window and into the sitting room. I have also borne witness to the cruel Easterly wind biting its way up the garden to the back door where, in midwinter, the sun disappears behind the hill by 2pm. With absolute horror I watched the implications of not un-blocking one’s drains when dramatic rainfall occurs, and I spent summers’ evenings concerned that the entire garden may whither from drought and that this may be the moment the borehole runs dry, calling an end for good to my Victorian style bathing routine. I know the Robin’s favourite section of hedgerow and the eaves where I hope the brave House Martins will return to. I have made damson vodka and had my fill of apples from the trees; in fact I also filled the house with apple blossom in April. I mustn’t forget that the tomatoes did well too. The past few weeks have revealed where the snowdrops flower and the Tawny Owl sometimes gets disturbed from his perch in the woodland during the day and starts calling. It’s lovely to hear him on a starry night. I have now seen the garden both in full bloom and when it is laid bare.