In less than a fortnight, my family and I will finally be crossing over the border into Scotland from England. This journey has been a long time coming, and I will very soon be telling you all about what led to this moment and possibly keeping you up-to-date through my Scotland Diaries. I am yet to decide if I want to run it through this blog or as a separate thing. Either way, if you subscribe, you’ll get notifications of when new posts or the Scotland Diaries are out.
We have lived in England now for five years in a house we love with deep white windowsills, thick stone walls, views to rolling green farmlands out the front, and the little village, a 12th-century church and very distant mountains (on a clear day) out the back. And though it has been a waiting period, it has been a wonderful time for the three of us. A true time of rest and peace and togetherness. A time of coffee shops and gardens; long drives and stunning beauty; pulling over the car in random places for a thermos of hot chocolate and a biscuit and new views; Christmasses of mulled wine, mince pies and open fires and even snow; ever-changing views out our windows; green, so much green; and an abundance of countryside.
But … it has been a lonely time for us. We have only really known two people here – contacts from Jeff’s work – and though we consider them good friends and great company, we only see them two or three times a year at the most. That leaves every other weekend and weeknight and celebration and event with just us. We know our people and our community lie in Scotland, but there is so much here we will miss.
To that end, I painted “Heading Home.”
I wanted to paint something quintessentially English to remember it by. When I saw on the cover of our local magazine a farmer walking his lands with his little dog, suit and tie and gum boots and tweed hat and all, I knew I’d found that perfect thing. Especially as we look out at farmlands from our front windows and we have seen a farmer or perhaps inspector roaming the farmland in just such an outfit, a little Jack Russell at his side. So I painted my own version.
In “Heading Home”, the light is golden; it is the long slow twilight we get here that I will always remember. It also represents that the sun is finally setting on this time. There are only glimpses of the countryside, all that is left of the day and all that is left of our time here. I will always remember the muddy fields here: what looks green and lush, hides the secret of deep, foot-sticking mud – hence the boots the farmer wears and the walking stick.
“Heading Home” is a play on words. The farmer heads home with his little Jack Russell, but we also head home. Scotland is our home. The home we have been waiting for for over twenty years. I did not paint the farmer’s face because it wasn’t about a person so much as a feeling, an idea or a representation of a land. But it also represents the loneliness that we felt here. There are deep traditions here, woven into the land and its people; traditions and a way of life that are hard to break into as an outsider. I think I could have lived here the rest of my life and still felt like an outsider.
“Heading Home” is my bitter-sweet farewell to England.
“Heading Home” – Watercolour by Lisa Saul.
About the Author: Lisa Saul
