En Plein Air

As the weather segues from the harsh chill of winter towards the warmth of summer I find myself eager to be outdoors - carrying my coffee into the spring sunshine like a moth to a flame. Now that the blossom has scattered, the vivid green buds and small bursts of leaves on the plum tree outside the kitchen window are beckoning and promising shade. A congregation of wax eyes flutter amongst the branches, joyfully announcing spring. The Burgundian iron table beneath the plum tree has sat abandoned throughout winter, its skeletal legs like tendrils cutting through the icy cold air to the frigid ground -  forlorn and redundant, apart from providing a launching pad for our “ 8 o’clock possum ”. The possum lands with a sonic thud on our roof every evening, precisely at 8 o’clock and embarks on several laps of the roof, at speed; his weighty furriness causing an otherworldly commotion as he skitters and slides across the corrugated iron with an infectious, marsupial joie de vivre. The table has changed hue over the past months as a gossamer thin layer of moss crept over the surface through the frost and rain, like a chameleon it is now blending beautifully with the acanthus backdrop - a festival of garden green.  

The sun is now arriving earlier and I have been enjoying breakfast en plein air whenever possible, nestled in my favourite chair next to the herb garden I sip my tea and crunch my toast with the spiky leaves of the potted lemon threatening to scratch or impale me. In order to benefit from maximum morning sun the chair has been positioned far too close to the lemon tree - why I have never shifted the lemon I have no idea, it has been this way for years, perhaps there is something invigorating about starting the day in sun drenched combat with a citrus tree.

While outdoor breakfast has thus far been successful, dining beneath the plum tree has not yet eventuated. During the winter we arrange the settee to face the fire which sadly barricades the French doors leading to the terrace under the tree. At the moment, the journey to the table whilst holding plates of food with the pepper grinder clenched firmly under one arm and wine glasses dangling precariously from various fingers involves a circuitous route past my drawing table in the back room to the other French doors where a challenging obstacle course awaits. You are forced to manoeuvre your way through inconveniently placed plant pots with the garden hose weaving across your path like a comatose serpent, the broken grate from a blocked drain lies in wait as you turn the corner of the house and prepare to stumble as the ragged edge of the concrete turns into mown tufts of twitch which we optimistically think of as a lawn. Finally you reach the table, as you sit on the weathered cafe chair there is the tell tale creak of yet another wooden slat giving way and you realise that you have forgotten the salt. The weather, the food or both need to be particularly spectacular to induce you to undertake this interseasonal pilgrimage.

Every year we enjoy the ritual of rearranging the living room to create what Simon describes, tongue in cheek, as our indoor outdoor flow. Somehow heaving the settee out of the way, turning the coffee table around and throwing open those doors for the first time definitively heralds the advent of summer. We will cheerily put on some summery bossa nova to set the scene and march in and out of the doors demonstrating the aforementioned “ flow “. We grab whatever is dinner that evening and resolutely eat outdoors. The upbeat, South American tunes dance through the air, the large leafed greenery adds an imagined Brazilian vibe to our southern hemisphere patio and the possum is too afraid to approach the table. We are filled with the laissez faire buoyancy of dining outdoors and blithely pretend that perhaps this summer, the easterly wind might magically fail to arrive.

Now is that time - it is time for us to move the furniture and clean the winter weathered table. It is time to think about the garden, to dream up new areas to accommodate garden tables, to strategically place a garden bench in a favourite sunny spot - time to plan and furnish the garden ready for an entire summer of dining and gathering outdoors.

We have a great selection of French antique outdoor furniture at Haunt - each piece redolent with the fine French art of dining en plein air.

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