more watery walks

yesterday morning we walked around the loch at Kilconquhar, for shade, although it was only 14C at 9 am.

these water lilies are the small yellow flowered wild ones, you get them in Assynt too. water is still on my mind.

this small shallow loch is probably the result of peat diggings (as are the Norfolk Broads), as there was once a great bog “the gret loch callit of auld the Reidmyre”, mentioned in 1599, and it must be fed by a spring as there’s no water running into it. it’s a site of Special Scientific Interest, so any fishing that might have gone on before is not allowed. presumably boating as well. there are often swans, and large numbers of overwintering wildfowl use it as a roost.

maybe this is an outlet

in Cupar the Eden has got very low.

sedge warblers seem to like it, they sing very loudly along the reedy banks.

Himalayan balsam doesn’t seem to worry the “Pals o thi burn” who place notices about what they are doing on gates.

they are creating little wetland boggy places,

keeping the footpath open, and instructing one to keep dogs on the lead. most dog owners ignore that one.

it is a wonderful walk and I am so glad someone takes care of it

Bims like to have a paddle now the weather is warmer, and will stop dead at any likely spot, refusing to move on. we have arguments about it.

old man willow has his toes reaching for the water, but for now the levels are too low.

on Friday we had had some rain so the lush undergrowth on the further part was too wet and we looped around

into town and along the path where the railway is close to the river on a high embankment. on the other side is the old mill leat, it’s all trees and shade.

you can walk along and under South bridge

instead we walked up to street level, past the house that got flooded in February 2021, and then over the bridge to go home past the railways station.

from the bridge one way it looks idyllic. the other side of the road you look over and the river is between high walls, houses, little “wynds” and Argos carpark, before the town park with its bandstand, under two more bridges and into open country where it can wiggle about as much as it likes.

in my garden exciting flowers are budding up and opening. this is a coneflower, a kind of echinacea. last year I grew them all from seed, and most did not flower last summer, so it’s really exciting to see them open up.

when fully out the long petals droop and the cones are full of florets which offer up pollen, nectar and a strong honey scent.

this one bent over suddenly so I cut it and brought it indoors.

I have three different sorts of echinacea, mixed, purple and Cheyenne spirit, and pale coneflower, prairie coneflower and yellow coneflower.

this is prairie smoke flower or lion’s beard

the seed heads are lovely. I only have 2 of these, I gave some away. the one I kept in the greenhouse over winter is in flower, the one that was outside may flower later in the year but I’m seeing no signs yet.

it’s all a bit of a jungle, with sunflowers at the back, and masses of little yellow ratibidas, or Mexican hats.

this must be one of the “mixed” ones

also I have a lot of love-in-the-mist, some self seeded from last year. they are all Gertrude Jekyll ones, but the white seem the most successful.

last year the prairie glow rudbeckias did fantastically well and kept on flowering well into October, but then most of them died off in late spring. I have two left, plus I grew some more from seed this spring, and bought a couple of clumps from Cambo Gardens, so it will be interesting to see what they do.

waiting to see what this will be like.

and in the studio some things echoed garden and watery wildernesses, with more paintings inspired by lochans and water lilies

this one is Morning lochan, with a large piece of raw linen glued onto the primed cotton canvas. the linen takes up paint very differently due to not being sealed. in places you can see it has resisted the paint and quite a lot of linen is still showing. my paintings are partly about their own materiality, so the bare linen, and the cut and fraying edges contribute to the total affect/effect.

Water lily sky, evening lochan, this one, 61 x 61 cm on panel.

but this last week or so, with heatwaves and summer flowers, have led me on a trail of something a bit different. due to having this amazing music in my head – Sufi Qawwali with a little help from an Israeli Sufi singer and poet, Shye Ben Tzur, and Jonny Greenwood. Junun. On the album is a poem by Meera Bai, a 16th C Hindu mystic poet, a Bhakti saint, and the line “If you ask – I shall dye my saree in the colours of flowers ” seems good for a title.

and another, 30 x 30 cm, available on Artists Support Pledge.

I watched the documentary by Paul Anderson about this album being recorded in Jodhpur Fort – it’s so atmospheric.

These are the colours. 80 x 70 cm.

it seemed the music took me along this way of mark-making with the brush taped to a bamboo.

“these are the colours of your saree” written into the wet paint with the point of my palette knife. This idea has taken on a life of its own, due to wonderful music making a place of rapture in my house, my studio and my car.

and talking of heatwaves – I decided I needed a sunhat, as these glasses don’t stop the sundazzle. free pattern to download from merchant & Mills, and all the scraps in my scrap-bag to go to.

CHALA VAHI DES (LET’S GO TO THAT LAND)
Poetry by Meera Bai
Translated by Shlomzion Kenan & Sajida Ben Tzur

Let’s go to that land, where my beloved shall be found.

If you ask – I shall dye my saree in the colours of flowers.

If you ask – I shall wear saffron attire

If you ask – I shall adorn my hair with pearls

If you ask – I shall leave it undone.

Meera’s Lord is Krishna,

Hear me, oh King of Kings.

5 Comments

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.