I was looking for a character with a bit of pizazz for my next homemade birthday card, but I guess that this guy’s going to have to do.
Tortoise
Nature’s Palette
It’s that time of year again when I realise that I need to improve my plant drawing so I’ve just started Sarah Simblet’s Botany for the Artist and Nature’s Palette, introduced by Patrick Baty. Nature’s Palette was published last month to celebrate the bicentenary of the publication of Scottish artist Patrick Syme’s expanded edition of Werner’s Nomencclature of Colours. Syme suggests a system of 110 standard colours in relation to zoology, botany, mineralogy and anatomy which include ‘Siskin Green’, ‘Flax-flower Blue’ and ‘Gallstone Yellow’.
It’s a book that I need to browse through in a good light, to appreciate the difference between ‘Snow White’ and ‘Skimmed-milk White’, ‘Olive/Clove Brown’ and ‘Liver Brown’.
Howgate Wonder
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.
The Eternal Optimist
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!"
No Mow May
The daisies are hardly bothering to open up on such a cool dull morning but at least I don’t get a spot of rain until the end of my brief sketching session as Barbara and her brother John make their three-circuit – one mile – exercise walk around the park. A man, accompanied by his young son on a bike, has set himself the target of four miles: twelve times around Illingworth Park.
It rains properly in the afternoon, which our garden really needs after such a dry April. Hopefully we’ll now get a bit of warmth and things will burst into life.
Every Flower Counts . . .
Leave your lawn unmown for the month of May and let the flowers bloom on your lawn. Then, at the end of the month, find out how many bees your lawn can feed with our Every Flower Counts Survey.
Plantlife Every Flower Counts survey
Well that’s all the persuasion that I need, it’s got to be worth a try, although we might need a mown path across our back lawn to get to the veg beds and to hang out the washing.
I am of course a bit biased and I even think of garden weeds as wild flowers, however troublesome, so I’m not the one to judge when it comes to a dilemma between tidy management and wild & free.
Spray or Strim?
“What do you think of the change from strimming to using herbicides?” I ask a couple from the allotments alongside the park.
The man with the barrow isn’t convinced: “They’ve gone along the fence, but we’ve got bindweed down there, you think that was what needed doing.”
“We used to grow a blackberry along the fence,” adds the woman, “so people could pick the berries on the other side, but they said that we’d be liable if anyone was ill, so they’ve taken it out.”
At first when I saw rings of dead grass around posts and litter bins, I blamed the local dogs, but it’s the result of the council making the change to spraying as an alternative to the expensive business of strimming around obstacles – which can be damaging to young trees.
I know how long it takes me to edge the lawn and to try and stop the chicory in our little meadow area taking over the paths and veg beds in the immediate vicinty, so I can imagine the scale of the problem of keeping things tidy over the whole Metropolitan District.
Plantlife is celebrating the way Wakefield and eight other councils are leading the way in better managing their road verges for wildlife, so I’m sure that the strimming versus herbicides dilemma has been carefully thought out, but however environmentally friendly the herbicide is that they’re using, there’s a lot of it being applied and inevitably there must be some impact on biodiversity.
Link
Every Flower Counts, Plantlife
Red Deadnettle
A Red deadnettle, Lamium purpureum, has sprung up in a pot of soil taken from the greenhouse, growing more luxuriantly than the sweet peppers that I’d sown. It’s one of the first garden weeds to emerge at the start of the season.
Broken Wall
Bilberry and heather grow amongst the gritstone blocks of this old wall on Hingcliff Common near a little stream called Ratten Gutter at Langsett. We’ve yet to get out there this year so this drawing for my next Dalesman article is from a photograph taken on 5 June last year.
Consisting mainly of sharp, glassy crystals of quartzite, gritstone weathers to produce nutrient-poor, acid soils.
Kingcups
A greenbottle settled on my sketchbook as I drew the first of the kingcups at the edge of the pond. Its blue-green metallic armour wouldn’t be out of place on a CGI robot but the it makes a living in the down-to-earth business of recycling: its maggot stage feeds on carrion.
The adult will also feast on carrion but is also attracted to flowers . . . and dung.
My macro photograph of a kingcup flower shows a cluster of stamens. The carpel, the female part of the plant, is almost hidden amongst them at the centre. The female carpels standing in the centre appear to be slightly notched on top, rather than rounded like the stamens and they’re very slightly greener.
Skunk Cabbage
So far this month, there’s been an air frost somewhere in the UK every night. It’s also been one of the driest Aprils on record, so it’s not surprising that, compared with last year, things are a bit behind. For instance, the kingcups by our pond have only just put out their first flowers today.
Harlow Carr RHS Gardens was originally the trial grounds for the Northern Horticultural Society, who chose a site on the edge of the Dales to ensure that any plant that could survive here would do well anywhere in the in the North.
Harlow Carr is the furthest that we’ve travelled since mid-autumn. We feel that it’s time for us to get out to different places again.
The yellow hooded spadix flower heads of skunk cabbage are bursting into life on the banks of the beck that flows through the gardens.
But is it Art?
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.