Today the weather plunged back into winter and its many grayscale shades. Do I always seem to be talking about the weather, I wonder? When we first moved into the countryside, Tom and I were constantly surprised by how dramatic and changeable the weather seemed.
Later we realized that it was living immersed in nature that made us feel the changes in the weather and the seasons more intensely than ever before.
I've become acutely aware of the weather: the angle of the sun in the sky and the quality of the light in the different times of day. The color of the landscape surrounding us, and every change in nature's palette, from the stark grays and browns of winter to the sudden emerald green of spring, to the gradually spreading yellows and golds of summer and autumn.
And the sound of the wind as it blows through the woods in the valley, hissing furiously through the naked winter branches, or dancing with the soft full leaves in the summer ... I discovered all this, but my kids are growing up with it.
I love this drawing Nicholas has been patiently working on over the last few days. He says it's not finished yet. And he says it doesn't matter whether it's spring or summer: it's our hills.
