A compressed week is a funny thing. An art exhibition over a long weekend, with an extra day to help take it down, has pushed all my normal domestic admin into two days this week. By Friday I should be all caught up but yesterday a funny thing happened. Chores, errands etc were somehow completed with an hour to spare. So I took the dogs to a favourite garden and just took in the view while we waited for the appointment time for their annual vet check.

A few years ago I spent just over a month living in this house and garden with an old labrador while her parents were taking a long break in Europe. I had an outdoor studio to paint in with a view to make a trainspotter weak.

At the time I was preparing for an exhibition that required abstracts so the location was immaterial. Which seems like a crime now. But just looking at the view is only half the story.  The sounds of this valley are the thing. As trains approach the viaduct they are coming out of a tunnel, so there is a feel of a train approaching, then the sounds. These are both fascinating sensations, no matter how often they are experienced. There is also a powerful sense of wanderlust, knowing that this train is a link to the rest of the world. In less than five minutes the train will cross the Tamar on the Albert  Bridge, designed by Brunel. Taking people away from Cornwall and on to wider horizons.

When the train emerges onto the viaduct it is almost an anti-climax. With my smartphone in hand, and photos and sketches of this viaduct taken or drawn over many years. I had a happy hour or so, digitally tinkering. Stitching photos and sketches together to try to express the energy felt as a train emerges from the tunnel and starts to run across this tiny valley.