Hocombe Mead

Hocombe Mead, in Hiltingbury, is a magical place for me. Over the past twelve years I have walked my dog through the woods. Daily, the light and shadows fall differently. The leaves reflect new light as they grow, and in autumn they fall to carpet the paths, and in their absence the trees reveal previously unseen views.

I know every path and thicket, and most of the flowers that grow in the field. In spring I look forward to the time when the mud dries and it is possible to revisit the field. In summer the field gathers and holds the heat of the sun, and the long grass and flowers hide the occasional calves that graze and look on unfrightened and unagressive to visitors.

The pictures that follow celebrate the changing face of the Mead. Most of my images were developed first with charcoal on paper, and then composed at a later time onto canvas.

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