A CHANGE IN PERSPECTIVE

How best to appreciate a new environment when it’s not as picturesque as we might like? After a move from England’s scenic seaside to one of its less glamorous cities, SARAH MOSS applies her powers of observation— and fi nds her surroundings transformed.

- SARAH MOSS

I USED TO LIVE IN CORNWALL. It’s a sad sentence. People’s faces drop, as if I’d said, “I used to be happy.” What happened? they ask. Why did you leave?

Cornwall is a county on England’s narrow southwestern peninsula, once known for seafaring, smuggling, and fishing. The region was mined for slate, tin, and silver from the Bronze Age to the 20th century, though now Cornwall’s main business is tourism. The flora and fauna are different from what’s found elsewhere in England. The Cornish language is Celtic, similar to Welsh or Breton. There’s a Cornish nationalist movement, and in some ways it feels like another country.

I used to live in a whitewashed 17th-century cottage with camellia trees at the gate, and the trees used to flower all winter. I used to stand on the toilet lid while I brushed my teeth, so I could put my head out the window and see past the grand Georgian town houses to the sea. I used to walk my kids to school along the South West Coast Path, a long-distance hiking trail following every indent of the jagged peninsula, and in winter we used to see the sun rise over the water. I used to take photos when I went to the bank, or to buy milk, because the beauty of the Fal Estuary—the bobbing sailboats and the green headland with its ancient castle— never stopped surprising me.