caralockhartsmith

stories and illustration

Poppy

poppy

September 6, 2015 Posted by | Art, Photography, Uncategorized | , , , , | 3 Comments

Californian Poppy

Californian Poppy

As a contrast to the clusters of fading plants, the californian poppies still shine brilliantly at the top of this wall, a wall which is full of holes, presumably for drainage as the gardens are piled high above the road. However, the house martins think the holes are for them, and you see them flying in and out during the nesting season. There are two roads in Coldstream that are thronged with swallows and house martins all the summer, Leet Street and Duke Street.  And beside and over the Tweed there are hundreds of sand martins, their backs flashing brown as they swoop for insects above the water. All gone now, of course.

September 29, 2014 Posted by | Art, Photography, Uncategorized | , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Red

aju1

June 2, 2014 Posted by | Photography, Uncategorized | , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Poppyfield

poppy4

When my son was young, more than twenty years ago, I remember passing a heap of dusty earth outside a farm gate and seeing a bunch of poppies growing there, and thinking that was some sight, as poppies had almost completely disappeared from the fields of the North. A week or so ago, my husband, who walks about six miles a day,  told me that on his walk he had come across a field full of poppies which had been left to grow amongst the rape, and that maybe it was something I would like to see.  So on a hot day last week I went out on a longer trek to search out this field.  I walked out into this field through the first gate, and waded into the grass beneath an enormous, humming pylon, and started to photograph the poppies there:

poppy7

poppy8

poppy10

Then I heard, above the noise of the pylon and the hum of the summer’s day, my voice being called, and saw across the field my husband, in his straw hat and mauve walking jacket, who in the course of his normal walk had caught sight of my head above the rape and poppies and grass.  He told me that if we went on down the lane and round the corner there was a good view of the poppies as they stretched away towards the horizon of the field.  I followed his advice, and when I got to the spot, leant across the fence and photographed the poppies from there:

poppy3

DSCN6738

Then I walked on furthedown the road which leads to Lennel, and thence to Coldstream, still following the poppies, until I got to a gate right at the edge, which I could get over.  There I took some pictures of the poppies close-up, including them waving against the sky, and being blown almost inside-out by the wind:

poppy2

poppy11

Since looking at the poppies, I have been painting a boat in a bright poppy colour.  Maybe after I have finished the paintings for an exhibition coming up shortly, I might might paint some poppies.  Although I may not, because I would not  capture their life, their silkiness, their delicacy.  Maybe they will find their way into the illustrations for “The Midnight Hare”, not all of which takes place at midnight.  Whatever comes of my experience of the poppyfield, I went home feeling good.

July 9, 2013 Posted by | Illustration, Photography, Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

   

%d bloggers like this: