Author: dominiquefcameron

Where the sun has not yet reached, frost glitters on fallen leaves. Startled deer crash through the undergrowth where newly truffled earth says badger. Sticky buds of the sycamore house a flock of long tailed tits singing their winter songs. Beyond the wood the hedgerow casts long shadows acrosss the field from a pale winter sun.

Merry Christmas to everyone. I hope you all have the best one you can and here’s to the returning light and promises for a better year ahead.

Thank you to everyone who has supported me this year to keep making work. It has meant more than usual. Dominique x

Mid afternoon. Brambles shawl the shoulders of the burn as it shuffles across the fields. Close to the entrance to the wood a flash of orange and there, a fox stands motionless in front of me. It lifts its nose to the air and as quick as you like dives under a stand of willow trees, across the burn and is gone. Its wildness and brightness still visible long after its departure.

Fruiting, falling, rotting wood. Dark wood, sodden with a day’s rain. Slip, slide, squelch, stuck. I sit at the edge of the field, looking west. The sky brightens to an apricot glow on the horizon.