Peaks and Troughs…

With all the travelling over the past few weeks, I have, at times, felt like an itinerant salesman…living out of a suitcase…. That’s not to say that some of the travelling wasn’t enjoyable… a week in Scotland…bathed in glorious sunshine, followed by a few days in the Lake District with equally good weather was wonderful…

…and with all these fabulous vistas I should feel inspired to draw, paint, create….. but…. I am definitely in a creative trough… I know it is all part of the cycle, of the process so I am trying not to give myself a hard time…..but…..

Anyways, after landing back home for a few days and catching up on all the inevitable chores, I took myself down to the river…trying a different sort of creativity…jotting down notes about what I saw and heard…

Dark, flowing river,

Ripples, slowly winding their way downstream,

Smaller ripples forming a stationary pool within the ribbon..

Heron gliding in on arched wings,

Reeds bending in the breeze,

Lily pads floating in circles, anchored

Cow parsley swaying,

Swallows performing aerial acrobatics

Skimming the water,

Willow dipping her branches like a washerwoman.

At first I thought it was oilseed rape but no…

Buttercups, swaying, golden, drinking in the sun…

And always, the incessant chatter…

swallows swooping across the meadow…

…and desire paths…

Worn flat by people…dog walkers, fisherman, children…

…and hiding in the shadows, like a shoal of fish, lily pads,

Furled, waiting to uncurl…

Pure white dead nettles…clinging on

Despite the detritus of humans…

Moorhen, or is it a coot, gathering material,

Nesting along the river bank,

Hidden amongst the grasses, reeds and nettles,

As the heron performs another leisurely flypast…

 

At least I feel as if I have done something creative today…

Advertisements

Autumn Equinox…

‘Autumn…the year’s last, loveliest smile,’

William Cullen Bryant

After enduring yesterday’s downpours and solid grey skies we have been rewarded…

…blue skies, mist, glistening fields, dew like diamond droplets…

‘Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower,’

Albert Camus

Glorious waterfalls of colour…

…jewel-like berries…

Swallows and swifts have gone, leaving the fields to the crows, occasional magpie and flapping pigeons…the gentle river meandering, only disturbed by the occasional narrow boat creating ripples that set the ducks quacking in indignation…

‘That time when everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature had been saving up all year for the grand finale,’

Lauren DeStefano

My Stretch of River….

We all need places to go…to think, chill, watch the world go by… My place is the stretch of the River Soar…only yards away…

Although the drone of the A6 is ever-present, my little piece of river seems a world away… for the most part, gently meandering its way through the countryside – although there are times it tries to get a little too close..

The changing seasons bring a different feel to the river…from early morning winter serenity….

…to now, mid-summer…with cotton wool clouds floating by and the swaying reeds and nettles echoing the flow of the water..

…I took my coffee with me this morning and just sat…watching, listening….saying hello to the occasional passers by..

…watching the ever-changing reflections and ripples on the surface of the water..

…watching a dragonfly dance across the grass, the swallows, swoop and dive, skimming the water, and a common tern (I think…) hover, then plunge… Listening to the chattering of the swallows, the ‘clap, clap’…silent glide of the pigeons, interspersed with the increasingly agitated call of the walker calling her dog…who was having far too much fun digging in the undergrowth…

Along the river bank, the nettles and bindweed tangle with the rusty seed heads..

…and signs of the approaching autumn mark the passing of time..

…my place, my stretch of river…

..where is your special place, the place you go to, to sit, think, chill, watch the world go by….?