“Six years I’ve been in the city
Every night I dream of the sea
They say home is where you find it
Will this place ever satisfy me?”
Verse From ‘My Island Home’‘ Song by Christine Anu
Today is perhaps the first day since we arrived in Scotland that promises warmth and spring. It is 11 degrees out there. As of last week, we were still having up to 4 degrees, zero overnight, and we even had patches of snow. The leaves on the trees were still yet to come out, and only sporadic patches of daffodils further into the village had braved the cold. It is a spring that has the locals scratching their heads in confusion.
We arrived in the middle of November on a day with driving icy rain and wild wind. The trees were already bare, having been stripped of their autumn glory by strong winds. Within two days, a thick layer of snow and ice covered the ground. This again, had the locals scratching their heads. It usually doesn’t start snowing until January.
What this means is, for us, it has been a true winter that has stretched from the 18th of November to the 30th of April – so far. Over five months. And the weather could still turn crisp and biting cold at any moment. Just because today is warm, does not mean spring is officially here.
To this end, my thoughts turn heavily to the sea.
I laugh to think that back in Australia, to cope with the winter months, we’d go away to the coast at a place called Narooma for one to two weeks every year. It was our annual trek, a three-hour drive to a place that would complain of a bitterly cold winter day if it dropped to about 15 degrees. Mostly though, the temperatures sat around 18 degrees and we would have the entire sun-filled pristine beach and adjoining caravan park to ourselves. We had driven from a place that would complain of a bitterly cold winter day if it dropped to 8 degrees. Mostly though, temperatures sat around 12-15 degrees with full warm sunshine outside.
Now those kinds of holiday-place temperatures are our new summer, and the winter temperatures of our Australian home are our new spring. What a different world we have found ourselves in.
And so more than ever, as this winter drags on and on well past its used-by date, turning our days sour and mouldy and unpalatable, I am dreaming of the sea. Of sunshine reflecting off white sands and bright waters, of gentle breezes that rustle the spinifex grass and nudge sailboats out to the horizon. And as I do, I can’t help but wonder and sing along with Christine Anu, “… will this place ever satisfy me.”
To that end, I painted, “Sea View” (Watercolour, 21x30cm.) The chair by the large window in the sun has been abandoned, the coffee cup left on the windowsill because the beach calls. The chair’s occupant has gone for a walk along the path between the spinifex to the pristine new sands. The wispy clouds gather, tugged by a coastal breeze; a light shade on a hot day. The footprints along the sandy path join the strip of the beach and meander left down to and along the darker damp sands where the blue-green waters whisper and shimmer. One can only resist the call of the lapping waves, the gentle breeze and freshly laid sands for so long. ■
[Click on any image to see a bigger version.]
“Sea View,” the print is out now.
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About the Author: Lisa Saul
