Wednesday, 9 November 2016

Winter Cometh

On the day that Trump becomes the 45th president of the United States, winter comes to Norton Conyers, both arrive on the scene with an unexpected bang - the former somewhat less welcome than the latter. Snow has fallen throughout the morning and in an effort to keep the studio at a workable temperature, I spend most of the time feeding logs into the wood-burner. By lunch-time, though the snow continues to fall, it’s clear that a thaw has set in: clumps of soft, wet snow flop from the trees and the sound of trickling water seeps music into the day. I pull on my wellies and head for the woods - I’ve been thinking of making an autumn woodland picture so I had a wander round with the camera yesterday to gather some ideas. The woods were full of spectacular colour from canopy to leaf littered floor and now I re-visit and see what overnight changes have occurred.  The changes wrought are subtle and delicate - a powdering of snow has filtered through the canopy and dusted the woodland floor and the sky has a steelier look to it but still the autumn holds on. Pheasants call throughout the wood, sometimes flushing from beneath my feet and a woodcock zips between the elephant’s legs of beech. On the way back to the studio I stop to watch the sun go down and as I stand a dog fox slides onto the track and stares me in the eyes. 

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