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