Abstract Landscape Painter.  Rural Dweller.  Lover of Modernist Art and Design.

20 March

It is 5.30pm on the Equinox - this day of equal light and darkness.  I am walking uphill towards the lane.  On my right, a ditch and hedge, and on my left, a vast open field.  As I complete the steepest section of the curve, I pause to listen as a skylark has started to sing.  No.  Listen more carefully.  [ I concentrate ].  Two skylarks.

I shield my eyes from the setting sun and search the air above me. There’s one!  A tiny, dark dot against the pale blue.  The zenith of their flight is approximately 100m and this one must have reached that height.  But how loud he is!  This grain-shaped speck is a bird not much bigger than a sparrow, but his voice is raw power.  He hovers - the sound pouring out of him - rippling, bubbling and lyrical.

I stand stock still and continue to watch.  He descends somewhat and sails across towards me.  It is then that I see the second, crossing the sky below him and also moving in my direction.  They both hover, almost directly above me.  I am transfixed.  The song is likely to be about showing strength to attract a mate, but it seems to pour out of his chest like pure joy.

But what do they see as they look down? A tiny, dark, column with an upturned face, standing on the edge of a hundred-acre field, lit by the evening sun.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson

http://anartistinthelandscape.blogspot.co.uk/