Of course I’ll draw them when they’re in flower, but I like foxgloves at this stage, with the cluster of flower buds beginning to unfurl.
My company as I draw this on my wild flower patch at the end of the garden includes a female sparrow picking over the wood chip path, a blackbird singing behind me over the hedge, a dunnock giving its hurried trill and a jumping spider checking out my legs. I’m wearing shorts so I can track its progress over my hairy legs without looking up from my drawing, so I miss its daring leap from knee to knee.
The rosette of leaves at the foot of the plant also makes an interesting subject. But I will draw those flowers as they appear over the next few weeks.
The first day of meteorological summer seems as good a time as any to try and get back to writing a regular nature diary and the day got off to a good start because we had a pair of bullfinches on the sunflower heart feeders. No sign of young yet, or of the female disappearing as she sits on the eggs.
It’s a different story for the blue tits in nestbox on our patio, they’re at the busiest phase of rearing chicks, the male has a routine of bringing in a small green caterpillar, feeding the young, then taking a break to nibble a sunflower heart from the bird feeder before flying off towards the wood again. During the whole process he and his mate are in a state of wing-quivering excitement, blue crests rising as they look around for any potential danger.
I’d forgotten that in my last year at Junior School, I’d produced this Cecil B. de Mille inspired version of The Book of Exodus.
Growing up in a then rather grimy pre-smokeless zone little town, with our regular entertainment provided by a 12 inch Bush black and white 405 line television, it’s hard to exaggerate the impact that seeing Biblical epics like The Ten Commandments had on me.
I thought that I’d give my laidback lepidopterist friend Roger a bit of a challenge with his birthday card this year. This is going to be difficult if you’re not familiar with British butterflies, so answers at the foot of this post.
And if that isn’t enough here are four bonus species – all different species of a group of small butterflies that hold their forewings at an angle above their hindwings, so they look a bit moth-like.
Answers
Top cartoon, back row, left to right: Red Admiral, Purple Hairstreak, Painted Lady Front row: Small Tortoiseshell, Purple Emperor, Comma, Small Copper
Bonus species, left to right: Large Skipper, Small Skipper, Dingy Skipper, Essex Skipper (and yes, as Roger pointed out, Dagenham is no longer in Essex, it became a part of Greater London in 1965!)
I didn’t get around to including the Chequered Skipper, shame about that.
As it’s our council leader Denise Jeffery’s birthday, I couldn’t resist a homemade birthday brownie cartoon. Congratulations too to Tracy Brabin, M.P., who celebrated her birthday yesterday by becoming West Yorkshire’s first elected mayor.By the way, her ‘vote Labour’ brownies turned out to be perfectly legal.
And commiserations to a talented bunch of runners up. What a shame that all seven couldn’t get together like the mismatched heroes of a comic book series to pool their superpowers, perhaps mentored by a wise old leader, played by former Dewsbury Reporter journalist, Patrick Stewart, to ‘promote ideals of tolerance and equality for all’ in West Yorkshire, just like he does in Marvel’s X-Men movies.
Breakfast time: A female squirrel tries several times to climb the bird feeder pole but soon works out that she’s not going to get beyond the baffle. She climbs one of the cordon apple trees to assess the possibilities then climbs onto the hawthorn hedge and leaps across.
She’d make short work of our plastic bird feeders so I’ve relocated the pole a few feet further from the hedge, making sure that it’s not too close to the clothes prop holding up the washing line, a route that we’ve seen squirrels use to get to the feeders in the past.
Afternoon: A few honey bee-sized bees are continually visiting the blossoms of our Howgate Wonder double-cordon apple, sometimes chased off by a second bee or by a small, dark, cigar-shaped hoverfly.
The blossom has now gone from our single cordon Golden Spire and the apples are just beginning to form.
Scientists have conclusively proved that being a Huddersfield Town supporter is good for your health: researchers have discovered that optimists are 11 to 15% more likely to live longer. For Townies make that at least 22%!
A supporter of Huddersfield Town
Remarked to his wife with a frown,
"If the lads don't buck up,
We'll be out of the Cup,
And the Terriers are going to go down!"
Have you ever come across the idea that natural history illustration “isn’t art”? I remember you trained in design and illustration rather than fine art – have you ever had to defend your work against this charge?
My friend, writer Richard Smyth, in an e-mail today
Interesting question. It’s not anything that anyone has ever challenged me on but, like most creatives, I wouldn’t want to use ‘artist’ as a job description. I’d always describe myself as an illustrator/writer. Although I’ve had exhibitions of paintings, probably 99% of my work is illustration and intended to be seen on a page or screen with text. My sketchbooks are part field notebook.
It’s a relief to be off the hook as far as art is concerned. When I draw a flower, bird or snail, I love the idea that the creature has the right just to be itself. I can’t avoid being an observer and therefore having an implied presence in a drawing but I don’t want to burden the poor creature with how I was feeling that day, or with my views on Life, The Universe and Everything.
I feel that when Picasso draws a dove, a monkey, a horse or a bull, the critics have to scramble around to tell us what that symbolised at that stage in his career, whereas if I, as I did this morning, draw a pink-footed goose, I’d like the actions, appearance and personality of that particular goose on that particular day, to be the main subject: not to mention the energy and mystery implicit in said goose simply being a goose.
I know this is impossible, as I’m not a camera, but that would be my aim.
