Tuesday, 22 May 2018

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

22 May

Bright light and a clear sky, but a strong breeze.  The tops of the oaks rustle and sway; the scented hawthorn moves like a wave.  Out of sight, but nearby, the croaky call of a pheasant, followed by the short, muffled drumbeat of its wings.

An Orange Tip butterfly haphazardly crosses our path - like a scrap of dip-dyed paper, blown by the wind.

Buffetted by the vigorous air, a sounds like the sea in my ears, we press on down the path.  In a sheltered spot further along, the waterfall song of the skylark drips over me, while the first swallows dip and dive and skim the surface of the green.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson