Frosty Sunrise – Watercolour
This attempts to show what it should be like at this time of year instead of all of this rain we have been enduring. Its a cold, frost morning captured a couple of weeks ago. Happy Christmas, everyone.
Frosty Sunrise – Watercolour
Leave me alone – Watercolour
I spotted this heron, last week, sitting on a branch above the River Almond. It glared at me, as I tried to get closer for a photograph, and seemed to say, “Go away. Leave me alone”. It disappeared quite quickly.
The Snow Gauge – Watercolour and Acrylic
Not too much snow here, compared with some of our friends in the States. The only way to attempt my favourite Brrrr scenes is to look back to other years. This is a scene from the winter of 2010 -11. We had record falls of snow then. This was the year that I forgot to put the garden furniture away and we lost it under the stuff. The table, about 4 feet in diameter, started to collect snow, every day, which I measured. John, jokingly referred to it as the “Snow Gauge”. We ended up with almost 40” of snow that winter. There is still time for that record to be beaten – and for more paintings.
Sunset, Bruntsfield Links, Edinburgh – Watercolour
Bruntsfield Links forms part of the Meadows in Edinburgh. This is the view, late on an Autumn afternoon, as the sun sets.
Cliftonhall Road by Ratho – Watercolour and Ink
After some dodgy weather forecasts one came through
Stav’ got it right
As temperatures fell, around tea time, last night,
We studied the forecast and wondered
Would it rain, hail or snow, you know, that sort of thing?
Or maybe a wee bit o’ thunder?
But Stav* promised us snow, plenty of snow
Traffic disruption an’ a’
Some rain would fa’ first on frozen highways
And then they’d be plenty of sna’.
Dawn came, it looked nice, though no sign of snow
Just an overcast sky and some cloud.
So I went to the shops walking down a steep hill.
“Whar’s yer sna’ noo?”, I cried out aloud.
Then a stiff wind sprang up, rain blew in from the west.
It fell on the ground and froze fast.
It was hard to stand up or make headway back home
And I nearly fell twice on my (censored).
I finally got home and began to thaw out.
My frozen demeanour a sight
Stav had promised us snow, plenty of snow
At least half of his forecast was right.
A warming hot drink with a hot bacon roll
Just the thing to feel human again
A wee sleep in the chair, cosy fire in the grate
I’m sure there’s no need to explain.
But what’s this I see as I look through the glass.
Its dark, there is hardly a sound
And there’s snow, snow, plenty of snow
Falling fast, blizzard like on the ground.
Here’s to Stav the foreseer, whose predictions bear out
He really is top of the tops
We have snow, snow, plenty of snow
And I don’t have to go to the shops.
* Stav Danaos – BBC Scotland Weather presenter
Freezing Fog – Watercolour
Dalmahoy Road this morning as fog descended over everything. Quite hard to do but I hope you get a flavour of our winter so far
Sunset in Winter – Watercolour
Because the sun is so low, at this time of year, we get the most amazing sunsets. The fading light seems to shine upwards into the clouds near the horizon while many colours mix in the sky above. Any objects, in this case the fence and trees, stand out darkly against this blaze of colours adding value to the “canvas”. This effort does not do the scene much justice but you just might get the idea.
To Plant a Tree – Watercolour
This is a small beech sapling which grows in the local woods. There are many young trees here which is good because a devastating storm, last January, brought down many mature trees.
Its amazing to think that, with a bit of luck, this wee fella will tower over the skyline long after I’m not here. Its always good to plant or even replace trees as Bunner’s poem echoes
What does he plant who plants a tree?
He plants cool shade and tender rain,
And seed and bud of days to be,
And years that fade and flush again;
He plants the glory of the plain;
He plants the forest’s heritage;
The harvest of a coming age;
They joy that unborn eyes shall see –
These things he plants who plants a tree.
The heart of a tree – Henry Cuyler Bunner (1855 – 1896)