Beneath the sky
The moorland view
Draws us home
Moorland View
Dabbling with oils
With a torn tendon in my arm, I’ve done little in the garden this last week: I’ve done little of anything really.
Found some old oil paints and equipment clearing my parent’s house.
I’ve never painted with oils before – always acrylic so decided to have a play and experiment.
Any tips would be appreciated- I’ve done a bit of reading.
Renewal
While life stays still
Unbalanced
A world keeps moving on
Beauty masked in small things
Paper thin petals
Dance above a sea of stems
Soft pincushions of moss
Glisten hugging the damp soil
The earthy smell
Of renewal.
First view for a Sight Hound
We looked mad arriving at the car park in thick fog and not taking coats. At the bottom of the mile long track we could hear the sea but not see it – that’s how dense the fog was. Pepper was so interested and surprised by what she could hear and feel – then the fog lifted and she just stood and stared at everything that was moving – a wonderful moment.
Strength of the sun
Piercing the whiteness
Unveiling the view
Fog – changing states
Creeping somewhere between
Day and Night
Clarity obscured but
Strangely visible
Sound there
But audibly different
Senses dulled and clouded
Sharpened by drips off trees
Bent stems flopped forward
Flower over flower
Petals strewn confetti
On sodden grass
An absence of birds
Gives way to a feeling of emptiness
Changing states
One path crosses another
But the end cannot be seen.
Bats
Shadows in the night
Flickers of a silent film
Across the screen
Night
night lingers long
sleep exits the open window
fingers tap
And Falling
Shower after shower circles these shores
Sweeps over the moors
Flattening the bracken
Sheep shelter for cover
Skylarks stop singing
New streams are filling
Dancing down the slopes
Redefining the map
Shimmering against the purple heather
Green growth is abundant
But flowers faded have fallen
Leaf strewn lawns traversed by molluscs not humans
And the wind chases the clouds
Ever strengthening
Raindrops keep growing in size
And falling.
Reluctant Walk
Horizontal mist
Wind sweeps across the hill top
Reluctant we walk.
She’s now 6 months and hates to walk on her own without Blue and dislikes rain – not much good in Devon!
The Beach Bamburgh
We had a very hasty picnic having walked over the dunes to the castle and village . Walking back along the beach we stopped for lunch and then the heavens opened . By the time we got back to the car we were soaked and covered in sand from walking through the grasses over the sand dunes .
The rain was torrential all afternoon so I decided to get the paints out and recreate the lovely view we had for the few minutes before the rain.
Ruth Partridge 