pond on the edge of an icy nowhere
There are such a lot of things that have no place in summer and autumn and spring. Everything that’s a little shy and a little rum. Some kinds of night animals and people that don’t fit in with others and that nobody really believes in. They keep out of the way all the year. And then when everything’s quiet and white and the nights are long and most people are asleep—then they appear.
― Tove Jansson, Moominland Midwinter
Winter still has us in its grip. It’s too cold to do anything much other than survive and dream and paint indoors by electric light and, if you are lucky, the shy, rum things might creep out to watch.
In the short daylight hours Tilly and I take to the hills seeking compositions for future paintings.
snowy path marks the entrance to Crosdale (round the corner)
a huge cloud floats across the valley
sun breaking through the cloud
Lake District mountains on the horizon
lovely Tilly
a bowl-shaped depression frames a mountain backdrop
an assertive cloud arrives