We asked her to capture 1 day (24hours)

by Anna Jones (cobsinmyhiar.familyphotoshoots)

24 hours in rural Wales for us is about getting outside. Coming from framing stock it's in my blood to get out of the four walls and connect to the nature. Living the outdoors life we get fuelled up with a hearty breakfast, we shake off the confines of school and routine by walking, laughing and embracing the tantrums. It's all freedom in whatever form it takes and all emotions are welcome.

All aboard the yute we head off to Jen and Dai's garden, it's a garden of dreams full of flowers and beauty like something out of an Enid Blyton story. A shriek of joy indicates Ted has found beetroot the tortoise, we gather round him and chat about how old he is, we put him at 100 years old. We give him a grumpy old man's voice and chuckle at what he would sound like if he talked. We spend a lot of time admiring beetroot stroking his shell and chatting to him. With the constant pull of media and a x box it all becomes too much and chatting to him. With the constant pull of media and a x box it all becomes too much for Fred. I try to engage him, but fail miserably. He throws himself to the floor and demands to leave and not even my beetroot the tortoise voice could bring him back. Ted just looks on nose scrumpled up not really getting why anyone would want to leave.

Gentle persuasion by Agatha brings Fred to a place of calm whilst Teddy looks on and we bible off to see the ducks. We sit and watch them waddle, they are funny, me and Ted laugh. I again accompany the ducks with voices and music as they shuffle along. Ted could stay all day long but Fred still feels the pull of the next game with his mates whilst Agatha is happy to do "whatever" but I catch the look of childlike playfulness in her teenage eyes. With the pull of the different ages leaving me frazzled I round up my flock and head home and I think to myself there really isn't an age limit to finding joy in Sid the donkey, the gaggle of hens, beetroot the tortoise and the waddlings of duck. The idyllic is in the messiness of the moment and it's in that space you find the freedom that the countryside brings, the tantrum of a child doesn't sounds so bad accompanied by birdsong.

Home and settled all the kids migrate to their chosen area of the house, they retreat back into their shells a bit like beetroot coming out every now and then for a snack, a chat, a moan or a tantrum and sometimes just a hug.