Saturday was another day of walking. Another familiar route close to site of the River Waveney sculpture trail in which I'll be exhibiting in august through to september.
I'm re-tracing old footprints and sometimes, quite often, it hurts, because the memories I have of this area are very close to my heart.
In a way it feels like a long overdue goodbye. It's not possible to hold on to the past, it is what it is/was and whilst I may not want to let go, it's like holding water in cupped palms after a while there's nothing left no matter how much I might will it.
I spoke in one of my previous posts of the marvellous silence, nothing but birdsong, and once again not many people. My aim was to pick buttercups to dye with, and alexander seedheads. I failed with the alexanders which are abundant by the roadsides but did not grow there. However the buttercups were abundant. And also the thistles, which I intend to use with a copper mordant to make a dark greenish-brown.
Although by returning to old haunts I may be harking back to yesteryear, it feels I am fixing a hole. It feels like I am fixing a part of me by facing up to things I don't want to face. If that sounds a little weird or out there well maybe it is. These walks I took with a man I wanted to know and love forever, it didn't happen but as the saying goes "it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all".
Hmm, maybe I should talk about simpler, softer things. The clouds of blue damsel flies, the water violet (I have looking for one of these for 8 years), the house martins, the families of geese with goslings, the green and the gorgeousness. But maybe I'll let my photos do the talking. I'm not a photographer but hopefully some of my pictures convey the beauty of the place. Today ladies and gentlemen I offer you Outney Common.