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I awake at 5.40am. A pale light is beginning to illuminate the silence and three of the poles from the left. The pink sun slowly appears above the mountains a hundred miles away and more and more of the poles gleam silver then golden. Long, precise rows appear for the first time and stretch across the desert scrub into the distance. Rabbits chase each other, birds are fluttering, a horny toad and a black beetle follow secret tracks.

Without pre-arrangement we all whisper to each other, realizing that this is the moment.

We separate and observe, draw and write trying to capture the moment. When we come together again we try to define our experience. There was no spectacular lightning show involving the poles but we had made time to observe the light, the soil, the vast sky, animals and birds which we seldom have time for in the course of our normal lives. It had been a spiritual experience for some, a re-connection with nature for others. An aesthetic experience, a calming experience but definitely an experience.

Artist/printmaker Linda Nevill producing non-toxic intaglio etchings, collagraphs and monoprints. Akua water-based inks. Current work focuses on atmospheric seascapes produced using Akua Kolor water-based inks. Has degrees from the universities of Edinburgh and Wolverhampton, has also taken courses with Keith Howard. I am an artist based in the West Midlands, England. As a printmaker I specialise in unique, original prints and limited, hand printed editions. These are made using traditional and innovative processes such as etching, monoprinting and lino printing. Although I work with a range of themes, I continually return to images and memories of the sea. I was born, and lived for many years, in the seaside town of Brighton. As a small child I enjoyed sitting on the pebbles with my bucket and spade waiting for the tide to go out and the sand to be revealed. I turned the pebbles over in my hands, listened to and smelled the sea. It was a mass of sensations that has made a lasting impact on me. My work is concerned with moods and emotions, often evoked through colour and texture. These are linked mainly to natural forms, such as rock, sand and pebbles, often situated at the coast. Producing work for a calendar and exhibition entitled 'Soul of Things Ended' for the recycling company Bywaters helped me to focus on some of my ideas about re-cycling and care for the environment. I enjoyed making a soft ground etching of ferns and plants with hand drawn marks suggesting rock strata and combined it with collaged shapes of bottles and cans made from re-cycled papers. These commonly discarded items of litter could easily re-cycled and the countryside preserved. I also produced monoprints including one with a Haiku on the theme of Re-cycling. My experience of visiting Death Valley in the USA made me very much aware of the importance of water in extreme heat. The beautiful, warm oranges, pinks and reds of the desert seemed at odds with the deadly climate. A wall side thermometer at a ranch showed 100 degrees Fahrenheit at 10 am and made clear the importance of shade and water. I was born in Brighton on the South Coast of England. I had a happy childhood and I spent many hours sitting on the pebbled beach watching the gulls and waves. We measured the tide by its position on the pier which floated or even disappeared on misty days. I loved the Brighton Pavilion with its oriental domes and I combined them with fairy tales and stories I created. My earliest memory is of standing with my father and looking into a field and watching a donkey roll over and over. Straight hair was a problem and it had to be cut, curled or tied back. I shifted position and wriggled and struggled and my paintbrush fringe was chopped shorter and shorter. Saturday morning ballet lessons led to wearing a tutu and dancing on stage. Sundays we often played Snakes and Ladders or Ludo. The games were intense and hours passed quickly. Afterwoods, I would search the garden for snakes. Once I found a grass snake on the front doorstep, sliding into the doll's bed. I knew that animals lurked everywhere, especially in the dark. At night, I reported all sightings of elephants, snakes, lions and tigers to my parents who brought me a glass of water and told me to sleep. Fact and fantasy, reality and imagination melted together in dreams. The street I first lived in, the local 'Pepper Box' building and images of myself as a baby all combine to make a screenprint over printed with cyanotypes (blueprints). My digital images of memories of my childhood link to the beach and sea and Brighton Pavilion but also to the fantasy animals watching me through my bedroom window I also remember the games I played, the ballet lessons I had, the agony of having my hair cut.

A visit to the Lightning Fields, Quemado, New Mexico, USA, August 2003.

We arrive at breakneck speed in a very large vehicle us two and 3 strangers on a road at first and then a maze of dirt tracks. As we pass a small mailbox by a ranch gate we see a streak of lightning zigzag down into the dry, bare earth. It has begun.

Eventually we arrive at the isolated log cabin. We stand on the veranda and look around across a vast plain surrounded by mountains. When the vehicle has left it is absolutely silent. We stare at the emergency phone which must only be used if rattlesnakes come in the house. If they sunbathe on the veranda it's not an emergency. We have noted the metal lined, rat-proof cupboard for food and the lack of curtains at the windows. We are on our own until 11a.m. tomorrow.

The ground is dry and cracked and studded with sage and rabbit brush. Tufts of fine grass also grow in small circles. It's hot, and huge inky clouds are forming in the sky. We take wooden chairs outside and sit looking at the 400 steel poles stretching a mile left and right in front of us - and wait.

As it grows dark, streaks of lightning fall over distant mountains and the poles fade away. Were they ever there? Bright flashes of pink energy burst into the sky from the left. None hit the poles. Humming birds dart up close, presenting long beaks to us.

All the streaks of colour in the sky have evened out and it's very dark. A coyote calls across the plain and another answers. Then a few stars shine and a small, circular patch of light struggles to break through a cloud. It finally reveals itself as a pale, crescent moon too weak to illuminate the poles. Constellations of stars pierce the sky and show the way to another universe. It's time to sleep.