Winter lingers on with rain filled days and grey skies,
blossoms cover hedgerows and birds begin to sing,
daffodils are blooming – it might as well be spring.
Rivers overflowing, meadows under water,
wind is blowing through the trees, the sun is rarely seen,
Celandines and catkins , primrose paths and puddles,
it might as well be spring.
It’s coming!
To be in my garden is to be in a place where memories are planted in time and space.
As the month of March comes to an end, I reflect on how I have struggled to paint, overwhelmed by endless grey skies. Venturing into my garden in between the showers I am always amazed how nature seems to cope and the lawn is abundantly thick and lush. Wild flowers are appearing …… daisies, celandine, primroses. Early cherry blossoms have fallen but the damson and blackthorn are in flower, while apple and hawthorn wait their turn.
My daughter and I visited Swanage on a rare fine day and walked to Peveril Point. The cliffs are eroding and there are warnings everywhere not to walk to the edge but we found a seat where we could gaze at the views of 9 barrow down and Old Harry rocks. The bay was calm and the colour of the sea constantly changed from turquoise to silver.
Swanage has been a favourite place for many artists and it is easy to see why.
The light is extraordinary.
In early spring, before the summer holiday crowds descend to the beach, the cafe on the pier is a most delightful spot to watch the world go by.
Fisherman’s cottage at Swanage.
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