Crafted from a fallen Exmoor beech tree
Each of these wooden cups began as part of a great beech that stood beside my workshop for hundreds of years before being brought down by Storm Darragh. Now, its story continues — shaped by hand on a traditional pole lathe, using only human energy and sharp steel tools.
Holding the cup, you feel the warmth of the wood and the quiet rhythm of the forest it came from. The fine grain tells the story of seasons passed — slow growth, patient strength, and renewal. Each one is unique, with subtle variations that speak to its natural origin.
This is more than a cup. It’s a moment of calm in your hands — a daily ritual that reconnects you to the living world. Whether filled with morning tea or evening wine, it’s a simple reminder of our place within nature, and the beauty of what’s made slowly, with care.
⌀100×100mm
Crafted from a fallen Exmoor beech tree
Each of these wooden cups began as part of a great beech that stood beside my workshop for hundreds of years before being brought down by Storm Darragh. Now, its story continues — shaped by hand on a traditional pole lathe, using only human energy and sharp steel tools.
Holding the cup, you feel the warmth of the wood and the quiet rhythm of the forest it came from. The fine grain tells the story of seasons passed — slow growth, patient strength, and renewal. Each one is unique, with subtle variations that speak to its natural origin.
This is more than a cup. It’s a moment of calm in your hands — a daily ritual that reconnects you to the living world. Whether filled with morning tea or evening wine, it’s a simple reminder of our place within nature, and the beauty of what’s made slowly, with care.
⌀100×100mm
