Dalton Wood
12th September 2021
Swing open the heavy,
White barrier
Into the Park, where
Crowns of knowing trees speak in
Whispered conversation, saying
Shhhhh….
Shhhhh…..
….shut the gate.
At South Dalton, passing majestic tall lime trees with trimmed
skirts, I wind through the private Park past Dalton Hall ( brilliant wedding venue ) towards the
private cattle grid, when I stop and pause.
Ahead I see a convoy of
beautiful pony traps pulling off the road. A young boy runs behind an
immaculately liveried trap and I wonder why is he ‘not on board’. I pass
them, drive up Park Road and stop where a spur of Dalton Wood touches
the road. The barbed wire fencing has been taken down, allowing access
for contractors. I pull over and set up the pochard box and
begin to paint. Previously, when I was sketching this view Brian ( or
maybe..Bryan ), who was out cycling, stopped and came over, we chatted
about the area, in particular, the Wolds. After painting thin washes for
some time I hear noises, turning round I see that the pony traps are
passing. What a wonderful sight, we exchange brief hellos en passant,
the young man, I am relieved to see, is now sitting in the trap. The man
in the last trap, when he sees me painting, says “how relaxing” and the
boy shouts over that he likes the painting. Then they disappear heading
for Fir Tree cottage. I found myself wondering where they were heading,
especially as I did not see them return. I continue painting , trying
to get the values down correctly. After a short time I hear click,
clacking hooves, two large horses were out for a trot, their riders
sitting high, hard hatted wearing short sleeved fluorescent vests. We
smile and greet each other.
Refreshments arrive and I stop to indulge, all is quiet and still. I
have coffee and cake, delicious. As I think about resuming, an estate
worker with two dogs in the back of a John Deere RTV, needs to pass so I
move the car and he cheerfully disappears into the woodland. I look
along the road and see a silhouetted squirrel stuttering across heading
for thick ground cover. A pheasant call breaks the silence, a deer
appears, standing still, it’s big ears prominent….it is very still …so
still I realise it was, in fact, a branch. I decide to pack up.
12x10 inch, oil on canvas.
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