My Kids Think I'm Obsessed With Winter - They're probably right.

My kids think I'm obsessed with details. They're probably right.

This little patch of winter sunshine is why I spent more than a year obsessing over where the cabins should sit. Worth it.

Before we built River Song and Cascade, I spent more than a year watching how the winter sun moved across our farm. Not because guests would notice, but because I hoped they'd feel it.

In architecture, it's called passive solar design. I just called it standing in paddocks watching where the sun landed.

A warm patch of sunshine across the floor. A bedroom that feels bright on a frosty morning. A luscious window seat that catches the afternoon sun and somehow convinces you to stay for another chapter.

Good design is funny like that. Most people never notice it directly. They simply know they feel comfortable.

Guests often ask if it's too cold for an outdoor bath in winter. The better question is whether you'll want to get out

I love winter sun. Not winter necessarily. Just that feeling of finding a warm patch of sunshine and settling into it like a cat. A chair that's been sitting in the sun all afternoon. A good book. A warm drink. A reason not to leave.

Recently our hot water cylinder at home exploded. Not ideal.

The silver lining was that we "had" to use the facilities at our cabins for a few days. Such hardship.

That week brought a run of light frosts. The kind that leave the paddocks sparkling white before the morning sun quickly melts them away.

Frost on the paddocks. Sun on your face. Hot coffee in hand. Winter done properly.

Sitting in that bath on a frosty morning, with sunshine on my face and a ram minding everyone else's business except his own,  I expected to last five minutes. Instead I stayed until my fingers wrinkled, listening to birdsong and watching - listening and completely unwinding.

Honestly, it was pretty hard to leave.

As I sat there looking across the frosty paddocks, I found myself thinking about all the little decisions that had created that moment. Not just the bath, but the shelter from the wind, the position of the cabin, and the way the winter sun arrived exactly where I hoped it would.

One coffee became two. Then the sun came out. Then nobody moved for another hour. Winter mornings have a habit of doing that.

Cold water immersion is having a bit of a moment. I haven't quite embraced the trend. Every winter I tell myself this will be the year. Every winter I get as far as standing beside the river questioning my life choices.

That said, I do manage an annual dunk. Usually while trimming riverbanks and accidentally toppling into the water. Every time it's surprisingly invigorating. Blissful even. I wouldn't necessarily recommend doing it in gumboots though.

I wasn't sure about electric fires when we built the cabins. Now I'm slightly obsessed with them too.

One thing I was genuinely nervous about was the electric fires. As a designer, I worried they might feel a bit kitsch. Instead, they've become one of my favourite parts of winter.

They cast a warm glow through the cabins on dark evenings and somehow make doing absolutely nothing feel like an occasion. They're not trying to be grand fireplaces in alpine lodges. They're just warm, welcoming and a little quirky.

A bit like the cabins themselves.

It was 2°C outside. I expected to last five minutes. Instead I stayed until my fingers wrinkled, listening to birdsong and watching a curious ram wander past.

A few weeks ago we had friends stay in both cabins for a winter weekend.

There was laughter drifting across the river. Shared meals. Children running between cabins. People taking farm walks whilst others disappeared into baths and regathered later to share meals and tales of their day.

At one point I found myself standing outside listening to it all and thinking how lucky we were to share this place with people we care about.

We built Ripples hoping it would help people slow down. What I didn't expect was how often it would become a place for connection.

What I do know is that Ripples is all about warmth.

It's about finding a sunny spot to sit. Watching mist drift through the valley. Soaking in an outdoor bath while the paddocks glisten with frost. Settling into a window seat with a view. Listening to birdsong. Watching the stars appear.

The comment we hear most often? "We should have stayed longer."

Perhaps that's what winter at Ripples is really about.

Not escaping the cold.

Warm baths. Winter sunshine. Fires. Long conversations. Friends. Family. Time together.

Quite often, guests leave saying the same thing:

"We should have stayed longer."

I think they're probably right.