This sketch of the Brede Valley in East Sussex was actually done two years ago but it suggests the sort of weather we are having at the moment.

Our previous cottage in Winchelsea had very large front windows reaching down to about a foot from the ground with a lawn in front - a perfect situation for sketching birds, especially in snow, while remaining in the warm and under cover.

DUNGENESS


wind

in rigging

crash

and boom

and thump

and hiss

of sea

the dry clattering

of pebbles underfoot

WORDS


We fasten words to things that fill our world

then cease to see them -

goat, stone, snow,

cow, bean - we barely notice

how eternity has brought to bear

upon each molecule its energy of purpose

forming patinas of bone, of grizzled skin,

of horn, of hair - we seldom sense

the transience in ancient weathered things

nor apprehend

the folding forms of birth and growth and death

until the word no longer fits

Some quick sketches from life of clouds over the hills west of the Brede Valley which attempt to capture the fleeting forms, light and movement of the stormy weather we've been experiencing recently.

Pannel Valley


oceans of fragmites
white
waves of stalks surging
into plumes

ducks
rocketing in brief, bright formations
and the sky
blue
blue

and gulls
flurrying like sudden
snowstorms, and the marsh-
harrier among them, veering, lumbering
on huge
sombre wings


 

 Spring

is the thorn burning

in the dark wood, the sky's chasm

slashing green across the hills


   spring

the fresh green gleaming

   speck

of each unfolding leaf, each blade of corn

incised upon its own shadow


   spring

is the crow suspended gold above the cold

   field

furrows trunks aglow beneath the hedge


dogwood, willow

bending booming writhing

in the east wind


the sky soaring


driving sleet

 

Sketches of Ancient Vines in an abandoned vineyard at Paziols, near Perpignan, in the south of France

(Click on image to enlarge)

 

Bits of a Fallen Tree in a Wood

Quick sketches like this are completely hit or miss. This one hit reasonably well, I hope.

(Click on picture to enlarge)

WINTER IN THE GREENHOUSE


Evening
draws its shadows now
from dead vines

the frost, the flare of twilight
dust
smeared upon the window pane

dry
soil
string, canes, boxes

flowerpots
beneath the slats