The Rooted Retreat: A Soulful Soirée in the Woods That Left Us Changed

There are events that linger in your memory long after they end—and then there’s The Rooted Retreat.

 Dreamt up and brought to life by the radiant Sarah (just Sarah, as if one name could hold all that warmth and energy), this wasn't just a gathering—it was a grounding. A rekindling of community, nature, movement and magic.

It began in the most unassuming way: with a drive past a venue many of us knew only in passing. But beyond the hedgerows and driveway, something utterly unexpected awaited. Towering woodland unfolded before us like a hidden kingdom, and there stood Sarah herself—beaming, and holding out chilled zero-alcohol ciders and beers with the kind of hospitality that made you feel like an old friend arriving home.

With mellow summer tunes drifting from the trees and the late evening sun filtering through the branches, people trickled in, laughter weaving between the leaves and introductions as natural as the breeze. Some came in groups, others solo, but it didn’t matter—Sarah had that rare ability to melt barriers with a smile and create instant kinship. The Rooted Retreat wasn’t just about yoga and silent discos. It was about connection.

Our journey deeper into the woods led us to what can only be described as the most magical yoga studio in Britain—an open-air clearing encircled by trees like something out of folklore. There, on mossy, uneven earth that somehow felt made for bare feet, Sarah led us through a yoga session so in tune with nature it bordered on the divine.

When she cued us into Warrior II and “Summer Breeze” played from her curated playlist, a real breeze swept through the circle, fluttering leaves and causing a collective, breathless gasp. “That’s a miracle,” someone whispered. And honestly? It felt like one. The ground rooted us, the birds serenaded us, and in that moment, we weren’t participants—we were part of the woodland itself.

Poses were met with a view so beautiful it belonged in a daydream. Lying back in final savasana, the canopy swayed above us, sky flickering through the branches, as if the woods were tucking us in. Sarah’s meditation guidance was gentle and vivid, and when she invited us to find our ‘happy place’, I’m certain many of us quietly thought: 'we’re already here'.

The experience didn’t end with savasana. A mindful walk through ancient woodland followed—some people strolling shoulder-to-shoulder with new friends, others dipping toes in the brook, silence interspersed with laughter and the crunch of soil under foot. Back at the now-glowing fire pit, more drinks were poured, fairy lights twinkled and thoughtful conversations replaced small talk.

Then came the gift—one final moment of magic. Sarah, ever the orchestrator of meaningful moments, handed each guest a tiny bundle. “Make a wish,” she said. “Maybe not even for yourself.” We tossed the pouches into the flames and watched the fire turn rainbow with our dreams. It was quiet. It was sacred.

Just as the moment softened, Sarah reappeared—this time, carrying bowls. Not just any bowls, but vibrant, plant-based poke bowls - creations from local independant Japanese inspired restaurant Yakinori - full of flavour and nourishment. “Like the most limber Deliveroo driver in the woods,” someone joked, chopsticks in hand. The food was exceptional, but it was the hush of satisfied eating, sat on logs around the fire and shared glances of “this is perfect” that spoke volumes.

And still—it wasn’t over. Headsets appeared. The night crescendoed into a silent disco beneath the trees. It was a first for many, but nerves quickly gave way to full-bodied dancing, spontaneous singalongs, and uninhibited joy. We switched channels, shouted “I love this one!”, and laughed with people we hadn’t known hours earlier.

At one point, I slipped off my headset and just watched. A clearing in the woods filled with glowing humans, moving beneath the warm, dark summer sky and fairy lights. No egos. No pressure. Just presence.

Even at the end, Sarah didn’t fade into the background. She walked people to their cars with hugs, leaving everyone asking, “When’s the next one?”

What Sarah created with The Rooted Retreat wasn’t just a lovely evening in the forest—it was a full-body, soul-deep reset. Every detail, from the first playlist note to the final glowing ember, was crafted with care and love. She made us feel safe enough to let go, to laugh loudly, to try new things, and most of all—to feel rooted.

No hangovers. No regrets. Just aching muscles, full hearts, and the unshakable memory of a night where we felt connected—to nature, to each other, and most importantly, to ourselves.

The Rooted Retreat wasn’t just an event. It was a feeling. And we’ll be drawing on it for a long, long time.