Stepping carefully through frozen leaves so not to squish snowdrops, I ventured through vegetation to the river’s edge until a boathouse appeared across the water. I merely sought another perspective and to understand why such a boathouse there, and built in such an unusual way?

Visible mostly by the crisp outlines of a tiled roof perched upon hefty, stripped bark pillars, the recently restored boathouse was a subtle,

historic and hidden gem. In such a vast landscape dressed with attention seeking sculptures, intricate gardens, ancient trees and deer, you’d be forgiven for passing by this rustic shaded beauty unawares.

As it would have been inside the mind of its Georgian creator, this boathouse was a dream-like work of art. Rising from its four corners precisely cut tiles climbed towards globe and flag finials, rendered gold to call out from the shade. Between the ridges scalloped, hand crafted slates added yet more character to the already pretty house, but it was more than the sum of its parts, this shady little boathouse was part of something much grander.

The few steps to a viewing point had proved a success, gifting a hoped for view of the boat house from across the river. Below the boathouse the water was cloudy but calm, a gracefully passing mass, but just a few paces downstream a portion would soon be scooped away, for a special purpose. Through a downstream picturesque stone arch, and in contrast to the calming river, the water fell and raced rapidly, filling the area in atmospheric sound worthy of the wildest wilderness.

My gaze became held by the river surface patterned with leaves and reflected sky, the crazy stick work of the boathouse repeated itself in crisp perfection. Inverted, towering plane trees reached down to a parallel landscape, holding a mirrored sun firmly between plane mottled branches. This long natural river scene though, with its stone arches and composed cascades, with its lofty trees and view framed by outgrown evergreen yew clumps – was a complete fabrication.

The boathouse itself bespoke, the river swerved, the landform carved, the archway stones stacked, and the trees carefully chosen, placed and pruned – the entire space over two centuries old. Yet the scene including its exquisite boathouse appeared so correct, so at home, it might have always grown there.

Just a few moments on that river bank, and a few moments earlier touching the timber knots of the boathouse itself, is enough. Enough to feel the energy captured from the sun, the character emitted from every cell of those tall trees, from each grassy blade and the river itself. To sense the respect, passion and dedication given by countless people across the years was a treat indeed, rare moments valued for the opportunity they presented to comprehend and consider the greatness of all created there.

So, to the spirit and creators of that boathouse and its wider, wilder home, your thoughtful work and passion carries forth, living now in the folks who patiently endeavour to see, to understand and appreciate what went before. We can but imagine how it must have been, how it must have felt whilst in its prime, but through efforts today, we earnestly hope you approve.

An experience of a boathouse at Belton, Lincolnshire, by Gary Webb.