Thursday, 14 December 2017

In the Deep Midwinter.

Frosty winds laid low.  Earth was hard as iron.  Snow on snow.

One of my favourite winter songs, and so true at the moment.

The Dunes, and the beach, still have iced snow on.  The air is so cold.  Bitterly cold.  One of my coats has a high zip up collar so I can put my nose inside and breathe in warmer air which does not make my airways close up.  In through the nose, out through pursed lips.  How to control ones breathing.  My problem is I then feel claustrophobic!  I have to surface from the collar, once I have grabbed onto the Esplanade railings, and take in the cold air.

A beautiful sunny day.

According to the DP the sea is warmer than the land.  I am no way going to test that, but assume that is why the sea birds survive their ablutions and paddling.

These are Scurries, Herring Gulls.  The much maligned Gulls of the seaside.  Swooping on people, usually when they are defending their young.  And scavengers, well who can blame them when we are the throw away society.  If I were fitter I would throw all the food rubbish back into the cars on the Esplanade car park who just throw it out of the car window.   If some can get out of their cars and dispose of rubbish into the many bins provided......why cannot all?

Back home.  Into the shedudio.  

I have been inspired by a pen and ink drawing I saw recently.  It was the head of an owl, black and white, the white being the paper.  But the eye had been done in colour and it zinged.  So, with some adaptations and still practising I have been given lots of photographs from the DP.

I have not quite got the scary threatening stare of the Sparrowhawk.  But this is still on the drawing board.  I am enjoying - so it is good.

Two parcels today.  One from the DP's brother.  It says it is a box of wine.  We wont open until Christmas Day.  I well remember the box we opened one year which had ale in it.  So the DP had a good Christmas....  The other parcel was from the pharmacy with my mixture of drugs to get me through till January.  Not even wrapped in Christmas paper.  Huh .

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