When I’m busy, it’s great to be able to turn to some state-of-the-art technology for a bit of help. Unfortunately this robotic illustrator’s helper isn’t yet available in the shops; I’ve concocted it using Photoshop on my iPad using pen knives and pencil sharpeners from my plan chest drawer. I found that coloured card worked best for selecting the background and cutting it out to isolate the shapes. Masks proved useful again in fine tuning edges but I haven’t yet worked out how to retain the masked effect when I copy and paste an element multiple times, as I did with the ‘Waverley Clip’.
The lens blur on the background image was added in the desktop version of Photoshop as filters aren’t as yet available on the iPad version.
I’ve been using Photoshop for over twenty years but I’ve never got into using masks to select areas of an image, partly because I find it difficult to draw precise outlines with a mouse or a graphics pad. Now that there’s an iPad version of Photoshop I’m beginning to see the point of it. Masks are non-destructive, so your original image, in this case the highland cow, is still there if you decide you’ve erased too much of it.
The meadow is the river embankment at Skelton Lake, while to highland cow (or bull?) was grazing in a pasture at Middle Wood near Redmire Force on the River Ure in Wensleydale.
These celeriacs smell deliciously of celery but as they aren’t much bigger than golf balls, by the time we’ve trimmed them down there won’t be much left. We’d never grown them before but a neighbour had plenty of seedlings so we thought that we’d give it a try. We probably won’t grow them again.
As I’m writing about our circuit around Newmillerdam for one of my Dalesman nature diaries, I thought that I’d represent our walk as a decorative border. The text fits neatly into the frame but it’s better to drop in the ducks, swan and coot to float above the background and text, then, in a program like Adobe InDesign, you can set it so the text wraps around them.
It makes a change to my usual nature diary format and I’d like to try it again with another walk, along the seashore, for example.
As the name suggests, our Stuggart Giant sets gave us plenty of onions from a 4×6 foot section of our raised beds. Unfortunately because of the unpredictable weather last summer we weren’t able to gather the whole crop in to dry them in the greenhouse – there wasn’t room on the staging for the whole crop – so a lot of them stayed out in heavy rain. Probably because of this we found that a lot of them had gone soft before we got the chance to use them – including most of those in my drawing; they’ll be going straight to the compost bin.
This wouldn’t put me off growing the variety again, they’re a mild onion, which we like. We’d just make sure that we started early drying them off.
Despite the stringent security, the sheep in the beet field have finally staged an escape and half a dozen of the more adventurous of them are enjoying the lush grass in the back garden of the end terrace house on the other side of the fence.
“What variety are they?” I ask the shepherd (I knew he was the shepherd because his 4×4 had an ‘EWE’ registration).
“They’re Swaledales with a few Texel, but they’re mainly mules. These came from Horton-in-Ribblesdale.”
So none of them are Beulah Speckleface, as I’d guessed the other day.
Hawes Round-up
A few weeks ago in Hawes we saw Swaledales being rounded up from the moors. That morning we’d seen people gathering up at Bardale Head two miles south of the town, so I guess the sheep had been driven up Bardale and Raydale onto the moor then turned back down Beggarmans Road and through Gayle into Hawes. There were certainly hundreds, if not thousands of them.
It’s been a while since I drew anything just for the fun of it, so simply drawing the pile of books on the coffee table in pen appealed to me. That didn’t seem quite enough, so I added the small jug from the sideboard and brought a pen and pencil into the picture.
The book is Jane McMorland Hunter’sA Nature Poem for Every Day of the Year, which we’ve kept up to since our friend Jill bought me if for my birthday in April. This morning’s poem though had a touch of the supernatural about it: The Sphinx by Oscar Wilde.
Three times around Illingworth Park,Ossett, is one mile and, although we’ve walked it so many times since the first lockdown, it’s always different. This morning, using Adobe Photoshop Camera on my iPhone, I’ve gone for an art filter which puts the emphasis on colour, as a contrast to last week’s linear woodcut effect.
The heightened colour on the daisies reminds me of the heightened coloru of Pre-Raphaelite paintings, such as William Holman Hunt’s The Hireling Shepherd.
The mushrooms that I photographed last week have gone but a bracket fungus and ear fungus on elders by the allotment fence make equally appealing subjects.
I need to work out exactly how much timber I’ll need for my 3-bay compost bins and I’m struggling to do a back-of-an-envelope type sketch with ruler and pencil in my sketchbook. So why am I struggling? – I’ve got a drawing board with parallel motion and drafting head stowed away in the corner at the other end of my studio. I’ve enjoyed the excuse to get it out again to draw an orthographic plan and elevations.
My old compost bin was made from recycled timber from next door’s summer house (which itself had been recycled from a previous existence as a lean-to conservatory) but after ten or fifteen years that was ready for replacement and this time I’m going to use FSC-certified decking boards with 3×2 inch uprights.
Turning the Heap
We won’t be going for lids on the bins this time, an offcut of carpet will have suffice to stop the compost getting waterlogged in the rain.
Previous twin bins: the lids proved awkward.
I’m keen to have a better arrangement for the front panels, so that will be slats which will drop into grooves. The idea of having three smaller bins in place of the larger twin bins I had before, is that it should be easier to get a system going of turning the heap. The garden waste will start off on the left in bin number one, then I’ll fork it over into bin number two in the middle ending up with one final turning into number three on the right. Composting is an aerobic process, so that will be two opportunities to let the air get to the compost and also to mix soft green waste, which on its own can become claggy and anaerobic, with dry fibrous brown waste.
The man with stylus and tablet isn’t drawing, he tells us, he’s surveying trees and vegetation impinging on the power lines. The pole that he’s looking at is so swathed in ivy that it almost looks like a tree.
“Do you have to go to species level?” I ask him.
When he explains that he’s a trained arborist, I can’t resist asking if he can tell what species of pine I’ve just photographed. Is it Corsican? Or Scots Pine?
As the tree is 50 yards down the lane, I’m expecting a lot, especially, as he points out, if it has been pruned that can change the silhouette, but he suggests that it might be black pine.
Ash Die-back
This old milestone from the Wakefield to Huddersfield Turnpike was catching the sun this morning.
Opposite the pine, an old ash tree was pollarded a few months ago, following hints of die-back on some of its boughs.
A report on BBC Leeds Look North this week showed the efforts that the National Trust are going to in the Yorkshire Dales to deal with the 80% of ash trees in their woodland that have been infected.
The surveyor tells us that local authorities have been surveying their ash trees because an infected tree can shed a large bough.
We tell him of a couple of near misses that we’ve had with the sweet chestnuts shedding branches in the woods at Nostell, where in recent years they’ve lost some centuries-old beech trees.
The trees around here are either 200 years old or saplings, he suggests; there hasn’t been any consistent replanting.
Beet Eaters
The sheep in the beet field look like Beulah Speckleface, or a similar-looking hybrid, a breed that combines the hardiness of hill sheep with the growth and reproduction rates of lowland varieties. For the last few weeks, these sheep have been enjoying a more high-energy, sugar-rich food than they’d get out on the moors, eating first the tops of the beet, then the beets themselves, although I can’t help thinking that they must be looking longingly at the grass in the next field as a change from gnawing the beets.
Shetland Pony
I’m trying to photograph three ponies feeding together at a hay bale but I don’t have much luck with the Shetland. All I can see are the tops of its ears at the far side but then it spots me and wanders over to the wall to say hello. Some day I might get a group portrait.
