The path to Thixendale David Hockney
Driving away from the rain which was falling heavily in Beverley, I arrived at sunny Sledmere. The newly refurbished cafe is amazing and was surprisingly full of excited, talkative family groups, the adjoining shop was quieter and stocked had sandwiches as well as essential vegetables. I bought a sandwich and a cup of tea and headed over to Fridaythorpe where `I topped up with petrol before driving to Thixendale via the Gills Farm road. I stopped at the top of the steep road leading down to the village and checked out a view, which is on my agenda. I knew my friend David Hockney had been here also, looking for a viewpoint. It is tricky to work out where to set up and paint from. In the distance Robert Fuller's Gallery buildings can be seen and the attractive valley behind it. The dew pond can also just be made out, but alas, today was not the day for it. The distant sound of a shoot could be heard which explained the occasional sighting of urgently hurrying RTV's. I drove down the steep, narrow road and was relieved to get onto the level, valley road. Turning left on the tight bend, I saw a young child in a in pram looking at very white, new born lambs, in a small field, previously home to masculine square headed tups. I stopped at the dew pond, 3 dragonflies hawked doing amazing aeronautical tricks as tadpoles wiggled and surfaced for air. I stopped and looked for signs of newts but could'nt see any, the water was clouded and water crowfoot grew profusely at the edges. As I painted, George sat at my feet, the sounds of bleating made me look across to my right. High on a green hillside clouds of concentrated sheep were drifting, they were being gathered and moved on by a couple of shepherds with their collies. Then, I heard it, a curlew, it's distinctive call like tumbling, running water, it remained hidden but this rare bird still hangs on in some parts of the country and I felt blessed. More sounds made me look to my left. High up the road to Gill's a tractor, heading down the incline, pulled a trailer loaded with happy, animated voices. I guessed they were associated with the shoot, perhaps beaters or maybe shooters. Tired looking people emerged from the Thixendale track carrying rucksacks and walking poles before turning towards Thixendale village. I particularly like the cow parsley in this picture and also the hawthorn blossom ( which I have just caught before it disappears ), also, the absence of the old bales near the gate, helps make the scene a little more simple. The dark green wheat seemed to blush pale at times as the sun intermittenly shone bright through the clouds. I finish, pack up and place the picture against the car as a couple stop and chat. We talk of dragonflies and painting and generally have a pleasant time until another vehicle needs to pass causing them to move on. I will add some details to the sign later..... maybe....for sale after edging and varnishing, email me if interested.
24x24 inch, oil on canvas.
A curlew sings.....On hidden wings.
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