New light will find us out with its passion for details. Watch how it greys this slope, creates landscape from that line of trees smothering the old terrace, illuminates its feral mix of raspberry and rhododendron, rain gleaming on grass blades; and now restores stone’s self, picks out its granular surface, irradiates igneous matter. That vague spike is flowering sorrel, that looming box hidden in shadow is a dogshit bin – such democratic and inclusive light. Watch how the growing light dilutes the rain. Carole Coates iv. |