The Somerset Lavender Farm

In the village of Faulkland resides one of North Somerset’s most charming destinations: the Somerset Lavender Farm. 

The drive from Bath takes my sister and I through villages with names inspiring murder-mystery television. South Stoke. Midford. Norton St Philip. It’s thirty minutes of rolling fields dampened by morning dew and grand country estates. Tall hedgerows border winding lanes, whilst fingers of bramble stretch to stroke the car. 

Arriving in Faulkland, I feel as though I’ve been transported to an era predating the car that drove me here. Ivy drapes on cottages like the silk of a lady’s gown. Cobbled roads and eighteenth-century architecture only add to the period-drama scenes that unfold before me. I expect a horse-drawn carriage to enter the single-lane track. A well-weathered sign declares the way for lavender and we follow it into the farm’s car park with mouths agape at the setting.  

It’s still early and the scent of morning, fresh and filled with promise, lingers. My sister meets my gaze as we tear our eyes from the view unfolding beyond the front window. Two identical grins and a knowing look that is familiar from these moments spent together. 

The sky is painted with grey clouds, threatening rain. But, below the gloom, a carpet of colour blooms. Stalks of lavender stand in orderly rows that, from a distance, resemble ocean waves – a sea of vibrant purple with crests of periwinkle and mauve. Each shift of the wind carries with it a heady aroma and fat yellow bees bumble through the crop. The air is alive with the breath of nature. I feel myself relax. And it’s more than the calming effects of lavender that I’m inhaling so deeply. I’m at ease surrounded by so much natural beauty. Our fingers skim the tips of the bushes, releasing bursts of fragrance with each caress. 

The Somerset Lavender Farm certainly caters for visitors seeking aesthetic views. Additional to two expansive fields of lavender, the farm boasts a plot of sunflowers and a garden blooming with flora – trails of blood red roses, beds of golden marigolds. There’s also a gift shop and café incorporating the lavender it grows in all products.

 

The morning moves to noon and yet I’m content to just watch this sea of lavender sway. Reluctantly, my sister and I make our way back through labyrinth-like trails to the car. I resist the urge to pull out my camera and capture another image. Instead, I simply look. The depth of colour, the gentle wavering, the sounds and the fragrance; I hold it all in my mind’s eye for a heartbeat. Then I fall back into step with my sister, the shifting lavender waving me goodbye.