Summer arrived with sweltering heatwaves, the kind that seemed to pause everything for a while, bringing aggressive horseflies with them. Horseflies were a whole new experience for me, as it was my first summer in Scotland. The birds had almost possessively taken up residence in the cherry and beech trees outside my cottage, while wild roses appeared everywhere I looked.
Even before the bracken emerged, the trees had already begun their spectacular display of fresh leaves, each species announcing itself with its own colour and character. Across the hills, pink and purple rhododendrons punctuated the landscape, while the wild cherry beside the beech tree provided shade over my favourite place to sit. Bracken croziers, which had dominated the woodland floor only weeks before, unfurled into tall green carpets, draping the paths in countless shades of green. Absolute joy!
I've never been particularly fond of scorching heat, even having grown up in Nigeria. But something shifted in me this summer. Delving deeper into circadian biology and learning to appreciate the magnificent role the sun plays in the natural world may have had something to do with it. I'd often be found at the crack of dawn watching the sunrise and basking in its red light, at lunchtime walking barefoot in the woods, and at sunset marvelling at the spectacular display of colours across skies that seem so close to the earth here in the Scottish Borders. Dips in the river and many cups of sun tea also made regular appearances.
Much of my summer days was also spent in the workshop this summer as I prepared for my first ever Goldsmiths' Fair. My thoughts constantly revolved around the projects I was working on. Thankfully, some of the pieces and preparations had been made during spring, but as always, there was still much to be done.
I started a little herb and wildflower garden quite late in the season, so I didn't expect to get much out of it. Surprisingly, I was able to enjoy basil, parsley, and nasturtium leaves and flowers. I didn't manage to get the rosemary and thyme going, and for some reason, I couldn't quite grow dill, even though I'd successfully grown it in the past. The horseflies seemed to disappear almost as quickly as they had appeared, and strolls along paths filled with the heady scent of elderflowers became enjoyable again. Thankfully, I could also indulge in one of my favourite pastimes — foraging! Ruby-red raspberries, rosehips, and towards the end of the season, blackberries.
Looking back on the summer, I am so pleased with the pieces that emerged from those long days in the workshop, and grateful to have had the opportunity to exhibit them at Goldsmiths' Fair. In my small way, I hope my work brings the beauty of the natural world closer to us, one hammer mark at a time.
