Winter Blessings

'Blessed Bee'

Lots of new work this week, as I desperately create for the Artisan Fair in Chagford on Saturday! All these are available as A5 prints, and the originals will come to the fair to sell.

 'The Holly and The Ivy'

 'Bless This Land of My Soul'

'Wise Women'

Made into lovely cards on recycled brown paper.

Cards are £2 each or 5 for £8

Meanwhile I continue to walk this land, finding new treasures and small beauties each time.

These large beauties are my boys, waiting for hay on this iron hard morning.

The small boys, across the valley are growing up, cheeky and playful.

And the view across the valley, ever changing yet remaining constant. This land is home.

This land that I love......

Mostly, I have been walking.

In the sleet,

the driving rain,

the blustery winds

and the brief windows of clear icy light between the storms.

Even at night.

I have been nightwalking often as autumn turned to winter. Last week's full moon rendered the moors as bright as day, and a sharp frost made the ground twinkle underfoot in the flickering midnight light.

We have watched the stars, and the stones, and slowly, slowly an immense collaborative project between Steve and me is unfolding.

There is new work, but it goes slowly too. Above is a painting of the Leigh Bridge Crossing.

Below is the painting that I am currently working on :

'The Woods Maiden and her King'

I'll stop there for now, and save the Christmas news for the next post! (In a day or two, I promise)

Messing about on the river

I have been reliving my childhood over these last couple of weeks, doing with my children all those things that I remember spending long, idyllic summers doing. Paddling in rivers, bare feet on green mossy rocks, scrambling and slipping over stepping stones.

Even skinny dipping when we have got far enough off the beaten track. The water is clean and clear - icy cold as it tumbles down from the moor.

Magpie and Daisy love the water, although they become worried once I get in too!

We have walked barefoot through woods and spinneys, the children's shrieks of laughter scattering the wildlife well before we arrive, although yesterday, alone and silent, I watched deer, and a fox watched me as I inspected her den, while the elusive raven pair, often heard, but rarely spotted, swooped low over my head.

We have lain on our backs, looking up into the beech canopy as the sun makes the young leaves glow.

The fern fronds are unfurling through the bluebells, and in a week or two will have smothered the flowers. But for now the blue carpet is glorious!

It makes my heart sing to see these things, and to watch my children playing as I used to. We are so privileged to live amongst this, to be able to walk in woods and on moor, to play in the rivers and streams and bogs, to have all this beauty and wilderness on our doorsteps. We can't afford holidays, but who cares? This is just the best place to be!

Spot The Difference

Watercolour painting

I've spent the last couple of days playing with paints. The torrential rain this week meant that I felt justified in doing this - how could I be doing those important outdoor jobs when the weather was so awful? I have for a long time been feeling the need to get the acrylic paints out and try and remind myself how to use them. It has been MANY years since I used acrylics, and I have to admit to being way out of my comfort zone. But you know, it was great fun, although I have mixed feelings about the results. It went through 'the Uglies' pretty badly in the middle - I thought it was going to need to be binned, but I persevered and the final result is the painting below. I was definitely hindered by having only large square brushes - I couldn't bear to sacrifice any of my precious, dearly beloved watercolour brushes. The colours are slightly muddy, not as zingingly clear as my usual watercolours, but I suspect that is simply because the acrylic paints are very cheap unbranded ones, whereas my watercolours are top of the range, professional quality. Still, wondering how they compared , I decided to repaint the image exactly using watercolours ( the top image). There are qualities I like about both mediums, and it was a fascinating little experiment. Which do you prefer?

Acrylic painting

The rain lessened for a brief moment, becoming that soft rain that I associate more with autumn than spring. I visited a friend, and took a walk to the top of her hill to gaze outwards. When I was a child we used to dare each other to climb the hill to the cross in the dark, telling ourselves ghost stories on the way. It never really scared us though - there is such a friendly feel at the rocky outcrop here. I noticed today that there is a tiny crescent shaped pool in the rock up here - a moon puddle.

we walk in Ancient places

The sun has finally emerged from the wintery clouds, stretching golden fingers across the icy fields. Though the wind is bitter still, the earth is springing to life beneath our feet. If you pause, hold very still and open your senses, it is possible to hear the sap rising, the land quickening. I can hear it in the birdsong, I can smell the spring as I walk across the hill towards the ancient settlement at Kestor. These 'roundy pounds' are the remains of ancient roundhouses, a lasting reminder of our ancestors who lived on these granite hills 2000 years ago. There are at least a dozen hut circles across this hillside. We sit on a rock overlooking the valley, and the weight of human history is overwhelming. How many people have been born and died here? Have lived, and loved, and laughed and grieved, and struggled to survive in this harsh beauty?

And this is what I am listening to as I work at the moment - I had to show you! Polly Scattergood is brilliant, (although possibly an acquired taste - you can hear the influences of Bjork, Tori Amos and Joanna Newsome in her songs)



Don't forget, there is still time to sign up for the print giveaway! You need to sign up in the comments of the Giveaway Post, not after this post. Good Luck!

Snowy Days

This is the reason there has been no painting of late. The daily chores seem to take up most of the day in this weather! Luckily the ponies all seem fairly content to be out in the snow, as long as they have plenty of hay to eat. As you can see, little Austin is so well insulated with his Highland coat that the snow just settles on his back without melting. It doesn't appear to bother him in the least.

Me, I'm pretty well insulated too, but it's hot work hauling hay around the fields!

Piper and Hazel too, are in full winter woolies.

Even the children are doing their bit to help. You can never have enough logs for the fire.
Thankfully it seems to be thawing out. There is more heavy snow predicted for this afternoon, but I find it hard to believe - it's too mild out there, and I suspect it is more likely to come as rain.

Chagford Hill Pony Sales

A week of clouds lying low around us, fog on the high moor, and mist and perpetual dampness on the low moors signalled the begining of October, and the pony drift.
Today dawned cold and clear, and as always, I walked down the road to watch this year's crop of foals auctioned.

There were at least as many coloured cob foals as true Dartmoor ponies, with the larger ponies in much greater demand. It's a poor year, recession hangs over everyone's heads, and the prices were lower than usual, with several unsold. I always leave my wallet at home - it's so hard not to feel tempted to bring home the unwanted colts!

This fellow though, is one I would have stood and bid for had I been in a position to do so.
A 14hh , 7 year old piebald stallion. I didn't stay to watch him go through the sales ring, but I'm sure he was snapped up!

Our favourite swimming spot

Summer time means swimming! We are so lucky to have a multitude of beautiful places to choose from, most within walking distance of home. Chagford has a fabulous outdoor swimming pool, but I'll save that for another post, as we also love to swim in the local rivers. Although today was rather overcast, it was very hot and muggy, so we set off for our favourite river swimming spot.
Out of the village we walked, wending our way up Meldon hill, and out towards Stiniel, a tiny hamlet of a half dozen little thatched cottages.

There is water everywhere in this lush and green land of ours. It springs from the earth on every hill, and trickles from the high rock walls that bound the lanes, and flows in narrow leats under and alongside the granite dwellings, converging in every valley bottom in peat stained, but crystal clean rivers.

From the thatched longhouses, we climb the steep and narrow hill to the top of Stiniel Down. Here is the path through the shoulder high bracken, between the overladen Rowan trees, which leads down to the valley and the river.

At the bottom, is Langaford Bridge, and the River Bovey, where we turn left and follow the water downstream.

In front of the bridge the water is about 4 feet deep, and there is a rope swing in the trees. You can swing out from the bank, and land with a splosh in the icy water. It is deep enough here to swim the ponies too, which we often do, although not today.

Instead, we continued on, along the river bank and through the gnarled trees. Everything is covered in a rich carpet of moss - rocks and tree trunks alike.

This is a land truly inhabited by magical creatures

The river narrows, and quickens,

until each can find their own private pool!