There was some sort of enchantment. Wandering through the sun-striped woodland was a trip deep into the rabbit hole. There was a dancing tree trunk that gave me a heartfelt hug, a fox who read a moving poem, a uber-smiley ecologist, a cuckoo song, two dancing swans who, hmm, had a bit of nookie and laid an egg, whispered words from A Midsummer Night's Dream, forest bathing, a Brown Owl girl guide reading a poem, a country music guitarist (we chorused a heartfelt rendition of The Lonesome Pine), and an artist who told us a story set around a blank canvas. Had they put something in my coffee? Were there dodgy mushrooms hidden in the delicious feast they served us? I suppose I'll never know…

I do though know that I found the experience profoundly moving, a window back into the innocent wonders of childhood, a forest-filled bucket of tingling surprises. This was all topped off by the beautiful duo of Lisa Knapp and Gerry Diver. The former sang with the most ethereal of voices, enough to make me cry (oh those enchanted woods!), and played the harmonium, and both played lilting-lifting violins that interwove perfectly with the listening trees. See www.canopywalks.uk should you fancy a go.

The enchantment was not only found in the forest walk. The Wealden Festival is the most intimate festival I go to – there can't be more than a few hundred attendees tops – and the most relaxed. There's very much a feeling of country house garden party about the whole shebang. Had Bertie Wooster turned up in his open-topped two-seater it'd been no surprise. It's quintessential England in sun-drenched Kent.

Once upon a time it was the Wealden Literary Festival, and books are still at its heart, with a focus on the natural world. There were some excellent author interviews – most notable were Daisy Fancourt's inspiring chat about Art Cure: The Science of How the Arts Transform Our Health (look her up), and Adam Weymouth talking about his book Lone Wolf, where he followed the tracks of a wolf for many hundreds of miles around Central Europe. Did you know that there are now wolves in every mainland country in Europe? Me neither.

If you're a wild child, if you want to dance the night away, or perhaps fancy smoking a spliff behind the bike sheds, this festival isn't for you. We were in bed by a crazy 10pm and there was only the merest scattering of people still up, but if you fancy a bit of learning, easy chatting and just hanging languidly around in the most beautiful of country house gardens – think Camomile Lawn – then it might just be your thing. Wholesome is the word.

This isn't then a festival for young people, except for the very young – I can hardly imagine a more wonderful place to bring your kids for the weekend. The festival was awash with them and their yummy mummies and daddies. It's a safe and magical place for kids to run free and they certainly did, their excitement contagious and irksomely peace-smashing in equal measure as they imbibed the many activities on offer, including: rope climbing up trees, zip wiring, a fairy walk, drilling wood (no idea what they were making), basket weaving, dragon making, and just generally going wild in the country.

One highlight of the weekend was dinner on a long table in the Saturday evening sunshine. The food was tasty and perhaps slightly festival-pricey, but the vibe was beyond price, a little bit of Tuscany without the olive trees and chianti. Stretching my imagination, it almost felt like those of us who took this option were part of a large and disparate family, a generous slice of Rupert Brooke's forever England (hang on, didn't I just say it was like Tuscany?).

Talking of food options – there's pizza, salads, ice cream and pastries on offer from the modest smattering of stalls, there's also a small bar, a bookshop, various craft stalls (which offer workshops too), a massage tent, a plant stall, and a Woodland Trust tent. It's a modest selection, but more than enough for the numbers. Likewise, the loos and showers, the latter being particularly notable for not having to queue at all. The luxury!

Overall then Wealden is a small and very relaxed festival, ideal for middle-aged bookish types and young families, and for those of us who simply fancy a gentle entry into the more hectic festival season. There's very little music on offer as it's essentially about books and chilling out, and try as you might you won't find anything high-octane to get stuck into, but it's a quiet joy and, whisper it, a bit of a delightful secret.