Through a Glass, Brightly

A wild storm the night before last has flattened some of my irises. Water butts are overflowing, and the wheelbarrow, when I went to move it to collect yet more stones, had several inches of water in the bottom. During the night I heard thunderous winds, the wisteria scratching at the window like a wild thing trying to escape the chaos. I reached over, half asleep, to where I keep a pair of earplugs beside my bed, and once in place I heard nothing more. When I went outside in the morning I could scarcely believe that only the irises were affected.

Irises, slain in their prime

I now have another sun room where before there was gloom and introspection. The room that was called the dining room in the estate agents' particulars had two windows placed quite high in the wall perpendicular to each other. I have no need of a dining room, having a kitchen large enough for any entertainment needs I may aspire to. But this room more than any other downstairs had the best views, though only when you were standing. Sitting on a chair or sofa, just the sky was visible. I have a thing about windows: you must be able to lean out of them comfortably, the better to soak up an atmosphere or vista, and inhale the scents of the garden. And they must catch the sun at least part of the day (bad luck indeed if they all face north). I intended to use this room to house my books, but something radical had to be done to make me want to spend time in it. I have it now. A huge plate glass window with a side opening has replaced one of the offending apertures, and French windows where the other one used to be now open straight onto the garden, or what will be a garden. The room has been transformed! Light floods in from around 1pm, and stays until it sinks behind the barley field. I've christened it the Book Room, though it may become the Sun Room. The former is less from a tendency towards pretension than because every room needs a designation, and it is filled with books. I still have a Room With No name, and suspect it will always be thus known. But now, happiness is sitting on a rocking chair in the sun, gazing down across the fields, musing on how it is that a place can feel like home so quickly, as if it was just waiting for me to find it.

New window and door