Looking at Home Through Different Eyes

When I booked my flights back to Belfast, I was looking forward to seeing my family.

What I didn't expect was to fall in love with the wildlife all over again.

It's funny how moving to New Zealand has changed the way I see home. Years ago I probably wouldn't even have noticed half these things. Now I'm constantly stopping, listening and looking.

I've become that person who wanders around with a camera around my neck, hoping something catches my eye.

This week, it has happened more times than I can count.

The first thing that stopped me in my tracks was the sound of a curlew.

I didn't even know about curlews when I lived in Belfast. I first discovered them on a visit back a few years ago, when I spotted one down by the shore and had to look it up to find out what on earth it was.

Since then, I've never quite forgotten them.

Their call is one of those sounds that stays with you. Wild, haunting and completely unmistakable once you know it. I stood there listening, wondering how something so memorable had passed me by for so many years.

Then there were the robins.

I've been planning a New Zealand robin painting for a while now, so it felt especially lovely to photograph the robins I've always known here. Same name, completely different bird.

The European robin is so familiar to me, but after spending time around New Zealand birds, I found myself looking at it differently. The red breast, the round little body, the way it watches from a branch as if it's keeping tabs on the whole garden.

It felt familiar and new at the same time.

And then came the biggest surprise of the week.

I was walking down a main road, quietly complaining to myself about the traffic noise, when something stopped me in my tracks.

A hummingbird hawk moth.

Not in some perfect wildflower meadow. Not in a peaceful nature reserve. Among the weeds, beside a busy road, hovering from flower to flower like a tiny little miracle with wings.

I'd never seen one before.

For a few seconds I forgot all about the traffic. It moved exactly like a tiny hummingbird, darting and hovering before disappearing just as quickly as it had arrived. I may have got slightly overexcited, although I suspect most of you would have done exactly the same.

I've also managed to visit the art shop I always go to when I'm home, mostly because they stock my favourite Unison pastels.

I probably didn't need a full new set but I bought them anyway!

The lovely thing about this trip is that it's reminded me why I paint in the first place.

It's not really about birds.

It's about noticing.

It's about those moments that make you stop walking, lower your camera for a second, and simply enjoy where you are.

Whether that's hearing a curlew calling across the shoreline, watching a robin from the garden, or finding a hummingbird hawk moth among the weeds on a noisy Belfast road.

I'm already thinking about the paintings these moments might become.

For now though, I'm just enjoying being outside, taking it all in, and seeing Belfast with fresh eyes.

I have a feeling there are still plenty more discoveries waiting before I fly back to New Zealand.