Rannoch – this impossible place.

Water juggles over rock, through trees, emptying into the moor to join the pooling, trickling, lapping, bubbling bog. My trainers are sucked from my feet, already sodden, shrivelled. The train pulls into the station, a leap across the burn, pink pebbles, embroidered silver lichen. Black velvet pools of peat smell of time, its scent drifts across this impossible place. Flinty, sharpening winds usher clouds, sift icing rain. The mountains disappear. All that remains is the moss beneath my feet, sinking slowly. Above, the sky considers its options, decides to lay low for now at least. Small birds sing their song across the moor. I am gone.

Winter River.

A cuttle wind from the east skirrs disconsolate crows to peck at stony earth. Ice grimes the riverbank, a frozen record of the last high tide. Ashen mud shudders, shrinks below, leaving the naked reeds to whisper stories of winters dead.

RSW Annual Exhibition

the 143rd Annual RSW Exhibition opened on Friday night. Thanks to all my friends and family that came along, it was a great evening, topped off with my winning an award which was a lovely surprise. I won it for the work ‘Japanese Anemones’. I am delighted, thank you RSW.

The exhibition is at the Royal scottish Academy, Edinburgh and runs until 6th February. Get along if you can. x