Finding More Inspiration – on our doorstep.
Walking beyond housing developments in Wyke , the outskirts of Gillingham become farms and fields again – an open country landscape.
We discover another mill sketched by Constable at Eccliffe – deep in a valley overlooking the river Stour. It is a day without light – grey clouds pour across the wintry sky and all we can hear is the wind and the water tumbling over the weir below us.
We are sheltered by the high banks on either side of this part of the Stour valley – the fast trains from London to Exeter roar past us on one of these and the other is a green sloping field.
The Stour gently flows on… “stealing away like time” as Thomas Hardy said. The sky grows darker, we have to leave this quiet place and make our way back to the busy, noisy Gillingham town traffic. For a short while we have been able to imagine it as it once was over 150 years ago.
Autumn trees on the Stour. Lin Adams.
In Bygone Days – there were castles and forests , silk mills, corn mills, water wheels, hidden springs and ancient tracks.
Mere , Gillingham, Bourton, Milton on Stour and Silton still have traces of these Bygone Days but Mere and Gillingham are steadily growing at a pace and new housing developments spring up it seems overnight!
Behind Purns Mill, Gillingham
We walked in John Constable’s footsteps towards Purns Mill. He painted this Mill and waterwheel a few years before it burnt down. There is still a mill by the Shreen at this spot and as we stopped to listen to the rushing water by the side of the mill we imagined how it must have been over 200 hundred years ago. The little bridge beside the ford is enchanting and the noisy Gillingham traffic still avoids this deep water obstacle. It is a peaceful place to pause and reflect.
The Ford near Gillingham
Two entrancing thatched cottages remain, hidden from view, behind Waitrose car park – their gardens full of flowers , vegetables and chickens! We step back in time.
The serenity of walking by the Shreen waters in Mere was a joy. Finding hidden corners where mills once flourished, water wheels now still – no longer turning, was captivating. A patchwork of footpaths criss cross Mere and one of these took us along the shallow river up to a tiny hamlet on a hill, a short walk away from the frenetic dual carriageway. Just below the spring line a mill with waterwheel (now a private home) stands at the beginning of the Shreen.
Climbing the castle hill – sadly no castle now – the views were amazing and worth the climb! Little is left of the Gillingham Forest but there are still remnants of mixed woodland and the autumn colours were beautiful.
After crossing Lordsmead Meadow (Lordsmead Mill is still there but private) we found a small bridge over the Shreen and eventually the path arrived at Woodlands Road, where we were met with a housing development in its early stage of groundwork preparation.
The Shreen waters
Gillingham has already been developed on all sides. Wonderful names like Peacemarsh and Bay are now mainly housing estates. The names remind us of quieter times.
Bourton Mill – unlike Constable finding Purns Mill we were too late to see this Mill – it has just been demolished to make way for a small housing development. We managed to get a glimpse of the mill pond after walking up Kites Nest hill but gave up on finding the ancient Saxon boundary marker called Egberts stone. The road past the mill had been closed but maybe next spring we will try again.
The river Stour at Stourhead springs into action gently, slowly gathering momentum until it reaches the sea. In Bourton the Stour is a stream and becomes a brook meandering past Milton on Stour into Gillingham. Touching the Shreen waters before continuing through the Stour Valley. Lots more to discover and paint – we will return soon… must be quick before the landscape changes forever.
The last leaves of Autumn
The autumn sunshine in Dorset is glorious – the trees are gradually turning to gold and red and my memories of Monchique in Portugal are beginning to fade already.
Monchique
Still – I have my sketches and postcard size paintings to work from to create bigger pictures. My art studio in Shaftesbury is a few minutes walk away from stunning views of the Blackmore Vale – a gentle English landscape. Hilly Portugal is a different landscape but both are equally inspiring to paint.
Returning to England from the heat of Portugal, the air is cool and there is a strong breeze but the sun is shining and the sky is a light shade of cobalt blue .
Peacocks and red Admirals gather nectar from the last remaining flowers on the buddleia and wild asters.
Despite the wind there are hot spots along the pathway that crosses the wetlands and reedbeds.
Autumn is here but the butterflies still think it’s summer!
High up in the beautiful hills of Monchique in the Algarve, the owls are calling to each other and the starry night is gradually changing from darkness to light.
Only at dawn does the sky become violet , pink and then apricot. It’s nearly the end of September and the endless blue skies and hot sun make painting in watercolour so difficult – I should have brought my acrylics! There are no gentle tones of colour here – everything is touched and scorched by the blazing sunlight.
Sunsets and pink dawns – that is what I will paint, seeking the shade of the eucalyptus trees during the day.
They say a change of scene is as good as a rest… having spent a week in the Wirral, Cheshire, I can totally agree.
I found the perfect place to sit quietly and study a new landscape at Parkgate – at the beginning of the Wirral Country Park, looking across the River Dee Estuary towards the Welsh hills and mountains in Flintshire.
Wild flowers flourish in the marshes which stretch as far as the eye can see under a panoramic sky.
A paradise for bird watching, walking and painting.
Oh my goodness so many butterflies in the garden today. Fortunately I paid no attention to my husband’s comments the other day when he said the buddleia bush needed cutting back outside the kitchen window. The buddleia is still covered in flowers and until they go to seed I shall leave them for the butterflies to sip the nectar.
Red Admirals, Peacocks, Gatekeepers, Commas and the beautiful Silver Washed Fritillaries – a pair! The rain may be coming again tomorrow but the butterflies were certainly making the most of the warm sunshine today.
The baby birds have fledged and our garden is alive with young families of goldfinches, bluetits, blackbirds and woodpeckers to name but a few!
Spotted flycatchers dart across the meadow at top speed – rarely pausing. The heatwave appears to be over and I can sit and paint in the summer sunshine – early morning to dusk if I have a mind to!
Buddleia is coming into flower – will there be masses of butterflies this year? I can only wait and see. The buttercups have gone and clover is covering the lawn – providing a feast for the bees.
“Where every flower that was not a buttercup was a daisy “.
Thomas Hardy (Far from the Madding Crowd)
It’s June and the sun is warm – my daughter Sam and I are painting in my garden. A shared art experience.
The birds are singing their hearts out – blackbirds, robins, thrushes and green finches fly in and out of the elderflowers and bees gather on the comfrey.
My garden is a garden of wild flowers and trees – roses and geraniums, the gentle colours mixed together like a romantic painting. Gardening for wildlife and Zen painting – what could be better?
Feeling the Colour – a selection of my original paintings and Dorset Landscape photography by Rosie Mathisen.
Now on show in Brewery Square.
I am standing on the Roman road which crosses the Heath from Thorncombe woods – near to Thomas Hardy’s birthplace in Higher Bockhampton.
The remnants of the wild Heath cling on despite forestry plantations and the tidying up of paths and trails. Signed footpaths are helpful and many are now more accessable to visitors but the gentle commercialisation of this magical place and its popularity could change it forever.
Late afternoon in the bluebell woods – it’s still Far From The Madding Crowd.
We travelled on motorways – an endless stream of cars and lorries and finally reached our destination – Norwich. Still surrounded by chaotic traffic at every roundabout and junction we ventured out to the Broads and fens determined to find tranquility in nature. At last – at Titchwell Marsh an RSPB reserve – we found it.
We stood transfixed, watching the Marsh Harriers, gliding and swooping over the reedbeds. We had come a long way to see them – a very special moment.
Every village we drove through has a new housing development and that means even more cars on the Norfolk roads but as long as the nature reserves and wet lands are there the birds and wildlife still have a chance.
The Magnolia avenue is in full bloom and the pure white flowers gleam like pearls against a backdrop of dense woodland. My daughter Sam and I walked up the steep path to look at the view – Chesil Beach towards Golden Cap to the right and the Fleet Lagoon with Portland in distant haze to the left.
A panoramic scene – one of our favourites.
Spring has truly sprung and the Studland Peninsular is covered in a profusion of yellow gorse as far as my eye can see. The warmth of the hazy sunshine helps to release its natural vanilla and coconut fragrance – heavenly.
The National Trust cafe is overflowing with visitors – and its not Easter yet.
It’s doesn’t take me long to find quietness. I follow the sandy trails and wind my way through the dunes and dry heather to the view point and look across the bay to Old Harry rocks , gleaming white against a silver blue sea.
The sky was grey and for most of the afternoon the sun didn’t shine but as always this tranquil area of nature – a sanctuary for wading birds – gives me time to walk slowly and just look. Lodmore is slightly off the beaten track and almost hidden from the Weymouth esplanade but it’s a very special and rare place to find so close to shops, houses and traffic.
At the end of my walk I caught a glimpse of sunlight reflected in the water channels and pools and it was beautiful.