One of the things I love about living in my house is the way that the light plays in and out of various windows at different times of the day and year. At summer solstice, it comes into the studio window at dawn and reaches south-west wall. This morning while putting a glaze on ‘Dawn over Heather’, I was avoiding a small shaft of light in my eyes – the sun only produced a 10 inch wide patch of light on the north-west wall – I’m not sure if it was a rhomboid or a trapezium, geometry was so long ago.
I love the silences (unusual concept for someone whose address ends in ‘City’) and the delicate noises. I feel so in touch with the environment when the wind rattles twigs from the eucalyptus across the roof and I love the patter of raindrops – which are also so precious here and usually means beautiful clouds I can paint later.
Perhaps it is because here so long – eight years is not long in the span of a lifetime, but it is the longest I’ve lived anywhere in my adult life – enough time to notice the change of seasons. Time enough to find a sense of place, a melding of light and land, sound and silence, through time and it’s seepage into my soul.