Saturday, 3 March 2018

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

3 March

The snowy landscape is covered in mist.  The entire vista is almost monochromatic; there is so little tonal variation.  The wind has dropped and although the temperature hovers around zero, it feels much warmer.

There are signs that a thaw is beginning.  The snow cliffs in the lane have the occasional hole in them and beneath the oak trees, patches of road surface are visible.  Our footsteps now make the familiar “crump, crump” sound as we walk down the hill, suggesting that the snow is wetter and less powdery.  

Down by the Hall we pause for a few moments, and notice a line of footprints emerging from the garden hedge and crossing the road.  They disappear into the small wood opposite.  They are clearly those of a badger - five toes with claws, positioned ahead of a broad pad, about 5-6cm long in total.

We walk uphill again and pass a flock of sheep being herded into a large pen.  They jostle and steam in the cold air.  The snow is thicker again here and we find more elegantly curved and elongated drifts.

As the day progresses, the spectacular icicles, which have been hanging like tubular bells from Barry’s kitchen roof, begin to drip and melt.  We periodically hear a dull “thump!”, as the layers of snow on our roof begins to slip.  When I look up from feeding the birds in the garden, I can see that it has crumpled and folded like a white duvet pushed down to the foot of a bed.  It sits ominously just above the gutter.  I’m very glad that we have a small front porch, as the firm closing of our tight-fitting front door could just trigger some slippage and a classic comedy moment!

By the end of the afternoon, the roads and paths are becoming dark again - muddy ribbons scattered over the white fields.

All text & images ©2018 Carol Saunderson