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I took myself off to paint en plein air at Aqualate Mere close to where I live. This piece captures the fleeting magic of springtime in full bloom.
I spent a blissful morning in the woodland, accompanied by my pochade box and oil paints, surrounded by a breathtaking carpet of bluebells. The sunlight streamed through the trees, casting dappled shadows and lighting up the blue with a kind of quiet enchantment. It was one of those rare days when everything feels just right—the warmth of the sun, the scent of the earth, and the gentle rhythm of nature.
As I painted, passers-by stopped to chat, drawn in by the scene. It was a joyful reminder of how art connects us—to the landscape, and to each other.
I took myself off to paint en plein air at Aqualate Mere close to where I live. This piece captures the fleeting magic of springtime in full bloom.
I spent a blissful morning in the woodland, accompanied by my pochade box and oil paints, surrounded by a breathtaking carpet of bluebells. The sunlight streamed through the trees, casting dappled shadows and lighting up the blue with a kind of quiet enchantment. It was one of those rare days when everything feels just right—the warmth of the sun, the scent of the earth, and the gentle rhythm of nature.
As I painted, passers-by stopped to chat, drawn in by the scene. It was a joyful reminder of how art connects us—to the landscape, and to each other.