Abstract Landscape Painter. Rural Dweller. Lover of Modernist Art and Design.
As we set off this morning, Barry our elderly neighbour and font of all useful gardening and building advice, hails us cheerfully from his garden. “Aconites”, he says, pointing to the flowerbed just in front of his feet. I lean over the rosemary hedge to see five or six buttery-yellow globes emerging from the earth. They are each about the size of a small marble, and seated on top of a crown of narrow leaves. Soon they will be open to form a scattering of rich yellow cups set against the dark earth and surrounding shrubbery.
Even in these winter months there is vivid colour to be seen. One of the features of the landscape around where we live, is the proliferation of small woods and copses. Today we pass three, and I pause to look at the bright yellowy-green of some of the trunks and the pale spots of lichen covering the bark of a another young tree. Apparently lichen is an indicator of air quality, but my main interest in it is as a pattern of contrasting oval shapes on the slender, linear structure.
In the early afternoon, the cloud lifts to permit the sun to warm and brighten the colours further. Whilst having a break from painting, I spot a kestrel sitting on a post on the edge of the meadow. Despite the increasing sunshine, the air is still bitingly cold, and the small bird has puffed its feathers against the buffeting wind.
All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson