Posted on by Karen

Among Fields & Flowers: Reading The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady

This entry is part 1 of 4 in the series Among Fields and Flowers: Seasons with an Edwardian Lady
Country Diary Reflections | Among Fields and Flowers: Seasons with an Edwardian Lady ~ Part 1 | A Slowly Unfolding Series

I have been reading a beautiful 1906 nature journal by Edith Holden. The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady was published in 1977, long after her death—truly a personal work. In this series, I will share my thoughts as I follow the seasons that inspired her art, the poetry she recited, and her quiet observations, along with why this book has become such a peaceful companion to me.

Each month opens like a window into the heart of Edith Holden’s world. The pages are filled with handwritten notes on the day’s weather, snippets of poetry, and careful observations of plants and birds. Her watercolour illustrations and penned thoughts, woven together, make the book feel like paging through a cherished sketchbook.

I have found it best to read only a few pages at a time, allowing her careful observations to sink in. Edith’s noticing of wildflowers, hedgerows, and migrating birds invites me to pay closer attention to the world outside my own window. There is a gentle humility in the way she records what she sees.

“Edwardian” refers to the early 1900s in England, during the reign of King Edward VII. The period evokes genteel manners, fashions, and countryside life.[1]

Edith grew up near Birmingham and was educated at home, where she was taught “to appreciate literature, especially poetry, sketching, painting, and knowledge of nature.” At the age of thirteen, she began her art education at the Birmingham School of Art, where she focused her attention on nature drawing and painting, exploring the countryside around her home. Edith later became an art teacher at the Solihull School for Girls. It was at this time that she began to put together The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady, “a carefully observed record of the seasons in the countryside around her home which includes poetry and delicate paintings of birds, plants, and insects.[2]

As I have learned more about her background, the diary feels even more intimate, as if I am quietly following her from a distance, sharing in her sense of wonder.

Currently, I am reading Edith’s first winter pages. In my next of this series, I look forward to sharing some of the quiet details that have piqued my sense of wonder of her work and observations.

  1. “Edwardian.” Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary, Merriam-Webster, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/Edwardian. Accessed 18 May. 2026.
  2. “History.” The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady, Lilytig Limited, https://countrydiaryofanedwardianlady.com/history/. Accessed 18 May 2026.
Posted on by Karen

A Curious Oak Tree

This entry is part 2 of 4 in the series Among Fields and Flowers: Seasons with an Edwardian Lady
Country Diary Reflections, Jan 1906 | Among Fields and Flowers: Seasons with an Edwardian Lady ~ Part 2 | A Slowly Unfolding Series

In my first post, Among Fields and Flowers: Reading the Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady, I shared how Edith Holden’s diary has stirred my sense of wonder. By slowing down and pondering her sketches and writings, I am beginning to notice the quiet details tucked in.

As I turn to her January pages, one image stands out: a curious oak tree, rooted in a field near Elmdon Park, uniquely catching Edith’s attention from afar.

Before this solitary oak appears in her diary, January is shaped by a series of quieter notes. The entries dwell on the damp and frosty weather, the comings and goings of birds as well as a curious robin—haunting the neighborhood’s gardens—and the picturesque countryside of flowers and foliage.

I am first greeted with her sketching of Blue and Cole Tit birds. Although I cannot share her sketch with you, I can share this resemblance.

Journal entries describe rain, gales of wind, and hard frosts. Not far from a pond, she saw several Moorhens feeding. I anticipate that Edith had her favorite haunts she returned to time and time again.

In addition to weather and wild life, she was particularly fascinated with foliage.

“Jan. 23…Went for a country walk. Every twig on every tree and bush was outlined in silver tracery against the sky…The mild winter has brought out the Hazel Catkins early, the small green flowers are fully expand: red on some of the catkins, and the pretty little red stars on the female flowers are appearing.”

An entire page was devoted to The Yew Tree, which can live to a great age—some “in this country being recorded up to 1000 years of age. It is supposed to have been planted by the Druids in their sacred groves.”

Yew Tree

Edith often quotes poetry, and for the Yew she included lines from William Wordsworth’s poem of Yew Trees where he described them as “the pride of Lorton Vale,” “stands single in the midst / Of vast circumference and gloom profound,” “a living thing / Produced too slowly ever to decay.”

Still my favorite is the curious oak tree. Edith described how from a distance it looked as if “half the tree were dead and the other half covered with glossy green leaves.” Upon closer inspection, she found that the main trunk and two of the main branches were a type of oak tree that is leafless in winter. And “growing out of the crown of the trunk and forming fully half of the tree was an Evergreen or Cork Oak in full foliage. The join in the two trunks was scarcely perceptible.”

A beautiful thing it is to see nature through the eyes of Edith Holden. Before reading these pages, I was not aware of Blue and Cole Tit birds, or of Hazel Catkins, or even a Yew Tree. But I am now the richer for it. And the next time I see an oak, her words about the curious oak tree of Elmdon Park will certainly come to mind.

I stole a peek at her February pages for the next in this series. I am anxious to read of the new foliage and critters she encountered as well as the new places she explored of Solihull and Bentley Heath.

Posted on by Karen

Wild and Stormy

This entry is part 3 of 4 in the series Among Fields and Flowers: Seasons with an Edwardian Lady
Country Diary Reflections, Feb. 1906 | Among Fields and Flowers: Seasons with an Edwardian Lady ~ Part 3 | A Slowly Unfolding Series

In this series, I have been sharing how Edith Holden’s diary has deepened my sense of wonder. By slowing down and pondering her sketches and writings, I have begun to notice the quiet details nestled within. In my last post, I reflected on her January pages, especially A Curious Oak Tree.

Turning now to February, which arrived with remarkable fury, Edith noted that by the second day of the month it was already “wild and stormy”. A couple of days later, another thunderstorm brought rain, hail, and sleet, followed that night by a snowstorm—the “first deep snow of the winter.” The land still did not rest as the next day rain and southwest winds caused a rapid thaw; and just three days later, Edith simply wrote, “Snowing all day.”

Yet between the southwest winds and the returning snow, Edith was able to steal away to the “violet wood”, where she took particular notice of the Lords and Ladies.

On her way home, she gathered some Gorse blossoms. These newly picked flowers would have brought cheer to her home as the next day’s snow covered the landscape. She sketched a beautiful likeness of them and copied a poem by E.B. Browning devoted to this lovely yellow flower.

Gorse Blossoms

February 15th appears to have brought nice weather. Edith described walking home from Solihull, several miles from her home near Birmingham. She noticed things I might have overlooked—or at least not seen with the same sense of wonder. She described, “a number of Gnats dancing in the bright sunshine.”

The mice would have given me a start, but Edith simply wrote, “I saw two little Shrew-Mice in different places on the bank, who darted quickly into their holes directly they saw me.” To my surprise, Edith devoted a full page of her diary to this creature, copying a long poem by Robert Burns, entitled, To a Mouse. I share one stanza that seems apropos:

I’m truly sorry man’s dominion
Has broken Nature’s social union,
And justified that ill opinion 
which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor earth-born companion
And fellow-mortal!

An otherwise tempestuous February was gracious enough to allow for one more adventure. On February 24th, Edith described cycling to Packwood through Solihull and Bentley-heath. This was no small distance. I find that remarkable, especially as I imagine she stopped along the way more than once. She surely was devoted to seeking the beauty in nature, and her passion encourages me to pause and notice the beauty around me.

On this day, Edith described birds busy building their nests, and the Rooks did so with a great deal of chatter. Through her eyes, I can envision the “branches of Willow bushes…everywhere… tipped with downy white balls.”

Edith visited the garden of Packwood Hall adjoining the church, where she chatted with a farmer who lived there. He brought out a little lamb that she held in her arms. She wrote, “it seemed quite fearless—poking its little black head up into my face.”

February’s turbulent weather had not yet finished. That day, Edith rode home another seven miles “in a storm of sleet and snow.”

It ended as it had begun. “We have had more winter weather this February than any other month this winter.” Yet the wintry days did not prevent the Edwardian Lady from appreciating every bit of nature’s gift she could discover.

In the next series, we are greeted by Edith’s exuberant exclamation, “Glorious sunshine.” As spring awakens, I look forward to pages filled with her writing and watercolour art, alive with the fullness of nature.

Posted on by Karen

New Life Begins

This entry is part 4 of 4 in the series Among Fields and Flowers: Seasons with an Edwardian Lady
A Slowly Unfolding Series| Among Fields and Flowers: Seasons with an Edwardian Lady ~ Part 4
Country Diary Reflections, Mar 1906

I have a deep admiration for those who truly see nature, who notice beauty. I have been so “busy” throughout my life that I have missed so much. I have looked less than I should have and seen less than I could. Those who share the splendor of nature are among my favorite to follow. By seeing and pondering what they see, I am learning how to linger with what I see.

Thoughts like these are why I have found such interest in The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady by Edith Holden. Beauty is timeless, and although she wrote and sketched her drawings 120 years ago, it’s as if it were yesterday.

As I move into March, leaving behind her Curious Oak Tree of January and the Wild and Stormy weather of February, I now find myself seeing through Edith’s eyes as spring awakens. After the bleak stormy weather of February, it is no wonder Edith’s first words in her March 4th entry were,

Glorious sunshine. First warm day of spring. All skylarks are singing in the blue.

And it is no surprise that she went for a long walk; as always, she knew the flowers by name as she went along the way. I am unaware of colt’s‑foot, procumbent field speedwell, or primrose, but as a student of nature, she certainly was.

The birds are a favorite of mine. Personally, I am quick to throw open the windows first thing in the morning, that I may hear the cheerful chatter of my local birds. Yet I like Edith’s way of saying it best: that there was such a chorus of voices from every hedge and tree.

Two days later, another day of bright sunshine brought a new discovery for Edith—a toad jumping about in the hall, which must have come through the garden door. I would not have described it as a discovery, but to Edith all nature was a discovery, whether toads or mice or shrews.

When I see how she lingered over everything she encountered, I am intrigued with her cycling jaunts as she detailed what she saw. I have gone on plenty of hikes and outdoor outings of my own, but my recollection of what I’ve seen is so vague. I long for the day when I see the world as many of you do, with the detail of the flowers, the grasses, critters and bugs, and the different species of birds. Perhaps some of those details are buried deep within my mind.

A few days later, Edith cycled near Bushwood. She described the weather as a rather dull day, yet she still went a little out of her way to visit the steep banks where the blue periwinkle grow. However, “going out of her way” is an understatement—Edith’s own words describe the journey best.


The periwinkle flowers that Edith had come to see,“…were some way off the road, and I had to carry my cycle nearly a quarter mile down a steep, muddy fordrough, set thick with thorns, with high banks on each side…When I got to the bottom of the lane…I was glad to find the white periwinkle still trailing its leaves on the bank…I noticed that the white periwinkle blossoms have five petals, while the blue have only four. I wonder if this is always so.”

Apparently, this is not always the case. Edith was likely observing an atypical floral structure that can occur in wild populations. She captured the moment not only in her journal but also in a watercolor sketch of the white periwinkles with five petals and the blue with only four.

Beyond the flowers, she also wrote of birdlife around her, including one she encountered near the periwinkle bed. She wrote, “A beautiful Jay in all the glory of his spine plumage flew screaming across the lane…He seemed to resent the intrusion of a human being in such an unfrequented spot.”

Her journal includes equally beautiful sketches of birds such as the Song Thrush and the Chaffinch, as well as colored illustrations of eggs from species that begin nesting in March. She also mentioned the House Sparrow, Starling, Wren, Rook, Blackbird, and Robin, among others. Of these, it was the Robin’s nest in the bank of a lane that she most noted, writing that it was “evidently just finished. This is the first finished nest I have seen this year.”

Looking through her sketches, I find myself especially drawn to the speckled eggs of the Thrush. Though I am not sure whether Thrushes live nearby, we do have many swallows that frequent our corner of the world, and I sometimes think I might climb a ladder to inspect one of their tiny nests someday.