Gluggaveður (n. Icelandic): window weather; a weather best enjoyed through a window.

I know a remote stone farmhouse in the middle of Exmoor that I have visited many times over the years. It stands rooted to its rural spot, weathered and ancient with small windows that do little to let in light, even on a summer's day. The interior is dark, rustic and worn from the daily routines of generations of inhabitants, and the only heating comes from an enormous fireplace in the main room whose chimney reaches towards the open sky.

During my most recent visit to this place, it rained almost ceaselessly for three days. The stream that runs alongside the house babbled noisily and despite braving the weather in order to stretch my legs and explore the landscape, I soon returned to the farmhouse's cosy interior to light the fire and watch the weather through the window.

This painting records my connection to this place. It reminds me of a more gentle pace and a simpler way of life, where one is very much aware of the elements.