Reading a site in winter
Most sites look good in June. We try to visit in January, when the wind is real, the trees are bare and the water finds its way across the ground.
By Ingrid Solvang. . 1 minute read.
When a client sends photographs of a plot, they are almost always taken in June. The grass is green, the trees are full and the light is warm. It is a good way to fall in love with a place and a poor way to build on it.
What winter shows
The wind. In summer it is a breeze. In winter it tells you where a house will be cold, where the terrace will be unusable and where a hedge is worth planting. We carry a small anemometer and stand in the proposed garden for ten minutes.
The water. After rain, ground that looked dry in June shows the line along which water runs. We mark it with flags. A house that sits across that line has a damp problem for the rest of its life.
The trees. Bare, a tree shows its real shape and its real health. We can see which branches are dead, where a crown leans and how far the shadow will fall at noon in December.
The sun. In winter the sun is low, and a neighbour’s roof that was invisible in summer becomes a wall of shade. This tells us where the living room window should be and which windows to leave small.
How we record it
We make a site diary. It has a plan, a wind rose, photographs from the four corners and a short note of what we felt, written standing there. We keep it open for the whole project. On the House on the Dune, the note says that the wind dropped for a moment behind the old pine belt, and that the house should sit in that pocket.
When winter is not possible
Sometimes a project starts in June. When that happens we go back in January anyway, and we tell the client what we changed. It has happened every time, and it has always been something small and important.