Monday, 16 April 2007
I’m not short of views. From the front of the house which faces South you can see the Pyrenees still slightly sprinkled with snow. In the distance the bright fields of rape make a patchwork with the dark green fields of wheat dotted in-between with clumps of wild woodland. Slightly to the right of vision hectares of vineyards in neat rows occasionally broken by the small white dot of the vigneron van. Still to appear the muddy brown fields mark out where the sunflowers will be in July heralding the height of summer.
But I don’t have to look out of the window for some of my favourite views. It’s funny how different corners of our houses, a gathering of a few objects placed upon a pleasing piece of furniture, a jumble of our treasured objects give us just as much pleasure and satisfaction. It’s just as important if you can achieve it to delight in looking in the window as well as outwards. I would be the first to admit though that anyone looking in through our windows during the renovations would have been lost for words. They were on many occasions thinking back on it which I tend not to do too often, people would smile weakly, swivel their heads round frantically until they could alight on something positive within a room, offer encouragement and move swiftly away. ‘It will be marvellous when it is finished’ rings a bell.
But one of the slices of the house I most enjoy is the one from the kitchen viewed with my back to the Aga and traveling across the hallway into the Dining Room beyond. It’s something about the diversity of the light and richness of the tiles and panelling , the pleasing shapes that the bones of the house make.
Sometimes, only sometimes we catch a glimpse of a dark shape flitting past. Someone else shares the love of my house too.