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My inspiration: The differing views from my window in the South of France

My inspiration: The differing views from my window in the South of France

My inspiration: The differing views from my window in the South of France

When I was a little girl, my bedroom had a spectacular view of the ocean.  I would regularly sit at the window and daydream, enchanted by the blue of the waves and the dancing of the sun’s rays on the surface. When I grew up, I spread my wings and left my home town, Alexandria, and Egypt, but I knew I would never quite feel right in myself if I was too far from the ocean that had so inspired me as a child. Hence my homes now in both Kent and France are near the sea – but I especially love the views from my French home over the azure Mediterranean. I have situated my writing desk to take advantage of the best view in the house, from my bedroom window, and I write looking out at the sea and the sky.

What most amazes me about the view is its transient nature. There is always something new, something beautiful, to see. Over the past few months I took a series of ten photographs of the view, to demonstrate the changing moods and colours of the panorama. Today, I am sharing those photographs with you, so you can understand how easy it is for me to conjure up a mood of passion or poignancy or light when I am writing a romance book.

The first is an early-morning view – hazy and dreamy and full of the promise of a spectacular day to come.

Next comes a mild spring morning, well after sunrise. The sea is a wonderfully deep shade of blue against the cerulean sky, with its wispy, cotton-candy clouds. And there, just visible near the horizon, a white-sailed yacht.

Nighttime now. The moon is so reddened it appears more golden, like the sun, and it hangs pendulously in the sky, reflecting a flickering path in the waves below.

The very cusp of dawn. I love the yellow light cast out above the rising sun, ready to wash away the delicate pinks and awaken the still-silhouetted trees before me into verdant, lush vegetation.

And now, glorious sunbeams shine like speckles of gold on the ocean – dazzling, beautiful, breathtaking.

A peaceful afternoon with not a cloud in the sky – perfect weather for soothing sailing, as evidenced by the dancing sails laid out yonder.

Sunset, and all the clouds are tinged with paint as if a great artist has daubed his most pastel shade on their underbellies.

An August storm approaches rapidly, and two opposites collide – the warm, glaring sunshine and the dark, threatening clouds. Lightning and thunder are sure to follow in Nature’s show of might.

Twilight. The sun is a tiny speck, dwarfed by the gathering night. And yet colour remains – in the purple of the flowers and, beyond, the last strip of blue sky and the pink tinge of the horizon’s haze.

To finish, the very bluest of seas created by dazzling heat and a clear,  so-very-blue sky. I love the contrast of the silvery-green olive trees and the sapphire ocean. How could a writer fail to be fired up by such wonder and colour!

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