Winter Sky

After packing off paintings for an exhibition, I put on my boots and went out  into air becoming more wintery each day. Walked out alongside the Hirsel course, where the small path will become impassable in a few years because of the new holly trees planted there, which might scratch out the eyes, like a bad spirit from a folk tale. Never met a soul walking up there. Just before reaching the communications mast on the edge of the woods, I looked out over the fields towards the hills and the sunset, and took these photographs, before walking back on the actual golf course.  Among the leaves were many forsaken golf balls.  Is there some mystique about this? Anyway, I collected a dozen or so and put them in a little pile, then set off back home.