Ahhh, at last the spring rain. Walking up from the beach the other day I caught that particular scent of spring- warm earth and green growing roots in the fine fine rain. It has got warmer too, although today sees the usual high stack of peat and wood on the fire. The MissionHall studio has warmed up too and I no longer need to wear thermal layers when I work! Above me the swallows and other little birds are building nests in the eaves and there is a whirl of busyness and expectation in their beautiful songs and chirpings. But above all there is the return of the light, and the Far North begins to reveal all the hours of the day again. Out at sea the waves churn and break on low sandbanks and shifted river rocks. The river surges out toward it and I long to swim through its deep currents at high tide - however this, as well as being probably dangerous with under currents, is the time the seals also love to swim and fish.
Back in the garden, the spring rain brings washes of daffodils and baby irises, and all the trees are in bud. I am making paintings about river mouth mud and the New Zealand bush and the songs of Tuis.