WASHED, SCRUBBED AND DRIED FOR WINTER.

This land of impossible greens has, of late, being given a going over. Local friends remark on the amount of rain we are enjoying. Most days we are washed with biblical proportions of rain which make indoor chores a delight.

Aside from fir, holly and ivy, the trees are splendidly bare. Each stands proudly on its ridge line. Along and down these hills scrub the winds of winter, right into our backyard. They rattle the tin bath appended the wall.

Hills scrubbed by winds

 

Drawing with charcoal seems the most appropriate medium to capture the captivating landscape of our township, surrounding hills and estuary.

 

Lynette Roberts, poet, artist, and writer lived on the other side of the Taff estuary in Llan y bri. Dylan Thomas was best man at Roberts’s wedding, her work was much admired by Robert Graves who was also a close friend.

 

I borrowed these lines to adorn one of my art school projects for the great hand-in of work on January 7^th. 

 

'To the village of lace and stone 

Came strangers. I was one of these 

Always observant and slightly obscure. 

I roamed the hills of bird and bone…. '

 

From Lamentation Lynette Roberts 

Collected Poems

 

They sit well on this landscape. 

The Taff Estuary from Laugharne Castle