End of March Recap: The Moments I Didn't Want to Miss
As March comes to a close, I find myself sitting in my studio, surrounded by pressed flowers and half-finished frames, reflecting on a month that asked me to slow down.
There is something about this time of year that feels gentle. Winter begins to soften, and spring slowly starts to show itself. It is not loud or rushed. It arrives quietly, and if I am paying attention, I can see it unfolding.
This month has been a mix of quiet time in nature and softly preparing for the busier season ahead. It has reminded me why I started Earth Tone in the first place. To notice beauty and to preserve it so it does not simply fade away.
Walking the London canals
One of my favourite moments this month was a slow walk along the London canals.
There is something about being by the water that makes everything feel calmer. The reflections, the movement, the stillness all at once. I found myself noticing small details. Light shifting on the water, early blooms beginning to appear, people passing by, each in their own world.
I came across a floating bookshop Word on the Water, tucked along the canal. Stepping inside felt quiet and comforting, like a space that had been gently hidden away. It reminded me that inspiration does not need to be loud or dramatic. It often lives in these small, unnoticed places.
Moments like this ground me. They bring me back to what Earth Tone is about. Finding beauty in everyday life and holding onto it in a way that feels meaningful.

Foraging for wild garlic
March always feels like the right time to get outside and forage. I spent an afternoon searching for wild garlic in a nearby woodland.
It is a slow process. You walk, you look, you wait. Then you catch that familiar scent and you know you have found it. There is something really special about that moment.
The leaves are soft, the scent is fresh, and everything feels connected to the season. It brings me back to why I love working with nature. You cannot rush it. You have to be present.
That feeling is something I carry into my work. Every flower I press is handled with care, with time, and with attention. It is not just about preserving flowers. It is about respecting the moment they came from.

A visit to the garden nursery
I also spent time at a garden nursery this month, surrounded by early spring flowers.
The colours, the textures, the feeling of everything beginning again. It is always inspiring. I find myself drawn to certain flowers without really knowing why at first. Soft tones, delicate shapes, combinations that just feel right.
These moments shape my work more than anything else. The flowers I choose to press, the way I arrange them, and the feeling behind each piece. It all begins here, simply noticing what catches my eye.
As I begin preparing for wedding season, these visits feel important. They help me understand what is in bloom and what will soon be part of someone’s story.

Exploring the Chilterns
This month also took me to the Chilterns.
Open space, fresh air, and that quiet sense that nature is slowly waking up again. Trees beginning to bud, small signs of life returning, everything shifting gently.
Stepping away from the studio always brings clarity. It gives me space to think, to breathe, and to reconnect with the reason I do what I do.
When I return, I feel more focused. More inspired. Ready to create again with intention.
Behind the scenes: preparing for wedding season
Back in the studio, there has been a shift.
The slower pace of winter is giving way to preparing for wedding season. This is when the work becomes more focused, knowing that soon I will be receiving flowers from some of the most important days in people’s lives.
Every bouquet I receive carries a story. A moment that someone wants to hold onto.
Creating a pressed flower frame from those flowers is something I take seriously. It is not just about how it looks. It is about how it feels. It is about creating something that can live on your wall and bring that memory back every day.
Everything I make is handled with care. Slowly and thoughtfully. Because I know what those flowers mean.

What March reminded me of
Looking back, I realise how much I would have missed if I had rushed through this month.
The canal walks. The scent of wild garlic. The colours at the nursery. The quiet of the Chilterns.
None of these moments asked for my attention. I had to choose to notice them.
March has reminded me that inspiration comes from slowing down. From being present. From allowing yourself to see what is already there.
It has also reminded me that there is a balance. Rest and preparation. Stillness and movement. Both matter.

A gentle invitation
It is easy to move from one month to the next without really noticing anything.
To miss the small moments that stay with you.
Before April begins, take a second to think about what this month gave you. What did you notice? What stayed with you?
And if you have flowers from a moment you do not want to forget, I am always here to help you turn them into something you can keep. Get in touch.
A piece to look at every day.
A keepsake to treasure forever.