The Light of Change

You may remember from my last entry that builders are in my home, and much progress is being made.

We are at the stage where the rooms being modernised have been stripped back to the timbers, for the first time in eighty years. Treasures are being discovered, like a large wasp nest in the roof cavity, fossilised mice in the cork insulation, old wall coverings and coins, along with a tangle of wires and pipes. Ghosts of long-gone plumbers, electricians, builders and decorators as well as owners and occupiers can be felt, and last night I heard, all through the night, tappings and ringings from dormant energies which had been awoken by the work.

When walls and carpets and furniture clothe the skeleton of a place, they may disguise it and cause us to forget the bones that lie beneath what we see. It is good sometimes to have the opportunity to examine the bones and to release anything that is trapped behind the facade, whether it is dust, memories or damp. My home is awash with memories and history right now and it is bittersweet as I remember what was, long before my time, and anticipate the light and freshness of renewal which is to come. Now, where have I heard that before?