It would be so much easier if I were actually there, on the island. I’ve got my sketchbooks, and my memories of it all, from so many summer visits, but it’s still not the same. I have a habit of seeing what I want to see, what I want to remember: an idealised landscape. I blot out the rest. And that’s not going to work for this project. My eye catches the whale photo, dusty and fading in the sunlight. On impulse, I phone Evie. It’s funny, listening to the telephone ring and being able to see exactly where everything is in that house, imagining Evie in the sitting room reading, and Gramps pottering in the greenhouse, or bringing in the crab pots; knowing the particular way the house smells – the faint salty fishy tang from cooked crab – hearing that background sound of the sea pounding the rocky shore. ‘Hello?’ Evie’s voice comes, bright and full of energy, like she always is. ‘It’s me,’ I say.
What do You think about Bringing The Summer (2012)?
