There’s something undeniably ‘Christmas’ about making your own winter foliage wreath.

It’s funny I start with that really, because 24 hours before when I was asked to take a last-minute spot in the class, I had absolutely zero interest in attending. But what initially seemed like a craft activity reserved entirely for my other half and her ‘gal pals’ quickly became a surprisingly therapeutic way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

This experience happened for me this time last year, in picturesque National Trust grounds – helping set a cosy, Christmas-card-perfect scene for a craft steeped in tradition.

Mince pies and warming mulled wine helped to remove any remaining inhibitions on arrival, and we soon settled into saying hello to our teacher and the other members of the group before gathering around a long trestle table.

On the table in front of us were all the materials we’d need: wire frames, fresh greenery like holly and fir, dried flowers, ribbons, pinecones, and an assortment of seasonal decor. 

First we learnt how to wire the greenery to the frame. There’s a real art to manoeuvring the branches and twisting them without having them look ‘stressed’. We were shown how to layer for fullness and advised that beyond this point, we shouldn’t plan our design too much, rather it’s best to let the wreath evolve organically. 

Apparently, or so I was told, there are no wrong ways to make a wreath. I wasn’t so sure. But once I just let the process happen in front of me, it all became quite freeing. Playing with textures and colours to create balance; it wasn’t about precision – something I’m more used to with a lot of my hobbies – it was about enjoying the rhythm and letting the creativity flow.

Much-like my experience with pottery painting that I’ve written about previously, I once again found myself completely absorbed in the task – arranging the greenery, adjusting the placement of pinecones, and getting my cinnamon sticks organised in perfect symmetry. 

By the end of the session, I had not only a full (very full in fact) wreath to take home, but a totally clear mind. 

What I also found interesting was that, although we all followed instruction from the same teacher, each finished wreath was personal and unique – a reflection of each of our own personalities. 

If you’ve ever thought about trying wreath-making, or like me, dismissed it without giving it a second thought, then I’d urge you to give it a go. It’s a chance to unleash your creativity and perhaps even start a new Christmas tradition that you can continue for years to come.