Autumn
JourneyAutumn
JourneyWild West Yorkshire, Sunday 3 October 2010
previous | this month | next
WE
WERE surprised
to see three
house martins
flying over
the rooftops
last weekend.
They weren't
necessarily
the birds
that had
nested here;
last week,
on the Tuesday
at Leaplish,
Kielder
Water, swallows,
house and
sand martins
- perhaps
a hundred
in total
- were gathering
on one of
the jetties,
like chattering
holidaymakers
waiting
for their
scheduled
flight,
but a couple
of days
later they
had all
gone, giving
the impression
that autumn
really was
here. The
birds we
saw last
Sunday morning
might have
been some
of the stragglers
from further
north making
their way
south, using
our valley
as a local
services
to top up
on insect
food.
On
Friday we
took Barbara's
mum for
her first
meal out
since she
was discharged
from hospital,
hence this
drawing
of the shelf
and the
wine bottle
(above
left)
from the
Bella Italia
at Birstall.
This might
have been
too much
for her
because
the next
morning
at 7.15
she called
us out because
she didn't
feel too
good (she's
doing OK
now, so
hope we
can take
her out
again for
a change
of scene
before too
long). We
quickly
got dressed
and as we
drove over
Horbury
bridge mist
was rising
amongst
the riverbank
willows,
ashes and
sycamores.
They looked
- to use
the inevitable
cliche -
breathtakingly
beautiful
in the morning
light, like
one of the
paintings
of fog over
the Thames
that Monet
painted
from a hotel
on the Strand.
We drop everything and turn out, morning, noon and on odd occasions night, for a mum errand or for the errands associated with our everyday work of book distribution but it never occurs to us to get up and go out simply to see how beautiful the countryside can be at that time.
In
snatched
moments
I draw a
burnt out
candle or
an old brown
shoe but
I fear that
I'm working
without
full force.
Like most
of us, I
find that,
when it
comes down
to it, my
real priorities
lie with
the well-being
of my family.
I increasingly
grudgingly
accept that
the beautiful,
endlessly
fascinating
world of
nature is
something
that I'm
going to
see only
in odd glimpses
in my everyday
life. Like
I was saying
the other
day, holidays
are soon
over and
the indulgence
of a 'license
to sketch'
day has
to be an
occasional
special
event. But
I realise
from my
recent contact
with animators,
designers
and fellow
illustrators
that some
artistic
projects
require
joined-up
time to
complete.
For some
of those
creative
types these
projects
even require
flitting
off abroad,
like the
martins,
for intensive
weeks of
creative
work on
film sets
or in animation
studios.
Sounds like
bliss!
I'm
aware that
I'm being
pretty hard
on myself.
I published
two booklets
and revised
a third
this year
but that
still doesn't
stop me
dwelling
on the fact
that since
then I've
written
- and this
is literally
true - just
one
sentence
of my new
book!
I really enjoy my work and to be engaged in something creative is essential to my well-being so I need to find some joined-up time . . . and I need to make contact with the natural world part of my everyday routine . . . and I want to do the right thing re. the family . . .
The brief candle quotation is from Shakespeare's Scottish play:
"Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."
Richard Bell, illustrator
previous | this month | Wild West Yorkshire home page | next