Hellebore again.

It’s raining. That fine stuff that wets you through.
Just been up the garden and taken two photos. One in extras.
Yesterday was just a gift with sunshine and warmer temperatures,
I had my haircut and then spent some time in the summerhouse after lunch unwinding with the book I’ve almost finished,
It had been put on hold when I decided I would draw instead a little while ago.
Here’s a quote which just echoed inside me.

“One afternoon, hot and bright…..I went up to the top of the highest hills around the loch, and panting, throw myself down on the grass which is coarse and tickly like a straw mattress.
Down below, the water gleams, fathomless and secretive.
Far away in the distance, the wide horizon of heather meets a big, pale sky that’s been swept clean of everything, except for a buzzard, hanging like an augury, and I experience a moment of pure elation, like an unexpected gift, and the hole inside me, where something has been taken away, heals over and is filled.”

I’ve tramped the hills of my childhood on days like those, in Lancashire, climbed some of the mountains in the Lake District and looked down on such beautiful vistas, loving to sit and just drink it all in wordlessly.
Sitting in the summerhouse with the sun streaming in and making dancing rainbows from the hanging crystals in the window, is a wonderful place to just be. For awhile.