I’m sitting on my sofa in north west England looking out of a big window at a eucalyptus tree, the low winter sun perfectly illuminating the branches, shades of orange-brown, cream, green and grey bark contrasting with the blue-green leaves. Bird flit through the branches; sparrows, a blue tit, a jay. Greenfinches squabble at the bird feeder hanging from a limb.
I look at this tree in the sunshine and it makes me happy.
There are memories, Australian forests, hot days, leaves crunching beneath my feet, parrots and cockatoos travelling by, a kookaburra laughing in the distance. Of warm dark nights surrounded by the smell of eucalyptus, the chirruping of insects, a canopy of leaves and stars.
But not just memories. The here and now, and wondering how colour and shape and texture combine to such perfection, to create such joy.