Along Bailey Lane, just before arriving at Warter, I came to a bend, ash trees met overhead, pheasants stepped on the road, partridges looked confused in the grass verges, a typical scene around here. But then ...whoosh, 3 mature kite took off from the road, I had not spotted them at first, they flew on long lazy wings, darning latticed trees. I stopped, looking, as they twisted, turned, and flew back down to the road. I approached slowly and they took off revealing a dead pheasant at the side of the road, it probably having been hit by a car. Continuing up Butt Lane, the Roman road, I stopped several times to look across hedges, searching for a view to paint. In one field of stubble, gold barred wings of a flock of goldfinches settled... a flitting, fleeting, fitting charm. In another field I could hear voices, beaters with flags, some accompanied by dogs were walking in a line across a stubble field. I thought I saw one person holding a walkie talkie as distant sounds told me there was a shoot in action. I decided to drive further up the road towards Cobdale Farm, stopped, and walked George again.
Eventually I saw this view from opposite High Barn Farm ( 192 metres ). It interested me due to being able to see Deep Dale, south of Warter. The tight Dale head forms a natural amphitheater where I had recently visited, to paint in the adjoining Merebalk Plantation. The sporadic sun occasionally lit up, bleaching the grass around the Dale as well as producing a deep shadow inside it. The distant flatlands of the Vale of York, and beyond, emphasized how quickly the landscape can change. How fragile perhaps, is this area, the rolling hills with numerous tumuli and bronze age earthworks, which tell of an ancient history, and yet, still evident today .
The sky was interesting and as I finished, was starting to pick up the setting sun, infusing a pale pink blush to the clouds. Trees are showing signs of change with oranges and reds visible on the distant trees. In the foreground dock plants raised rusty spikes contrasting with the stubble field beyond.
As I finished I was joined by a family of budding artists, and at a safe distance, we chatted for a few minutes. We talked about the fine views to the east, toward Beverley and even further, to the edge of the Humber at Paul. The younger members are enthusiastic about their artwork and may even send me photographs which I would love to see. I also had my picture taken, at the easel, which I hope to publish with this post....in the future.
24 x18 inch oil on canvas, part of my Wolds exhibition.
SOLD
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