Boarhills, Fife.

A blonde fields end meets a mute slate sky. Autumn, the turn. Scarlet hips, russet leaves caught in an eddy as the slow burn meanders to the sea. Brackish water, geese and eider, fossilised water etched on rock all caught in a long look this afternoon.

Umbria.

Sketch from a recent visit to Umbria, Itlay. This is the view across the valley.

Glenduckie – birch.

A mizzling mist sinks slowly down the hillside, brushes through oak and rowan and birch. Gorse is jewelled with fine silver cobwebs. Pheasants, berries, falling leaves.

Methil docks.

Leaving the harbour with the smell of diesel under a grey duvet sky, past the Harland and Wolff yard and the sleeping seals on the rocks below the giant turbine. A shag flies over the stern and eider ducks bob. Trying to draw the land from the sea as the boat shuggles this way and that . A slag heap from the old mines, an oil rig out in the Firth. A landscape of energy – coal, wind and oil all within sight. A breif cast for mackerel. Not biting, we head back.