Crossing the Moor
When my children were babies, one of the only ways to get them to nap was to put them in the car and set off for a long drive. I spent a lot of time in their early years exploring all of the tiniest back roads in Northumberland, and as a result I saw many wonderful unsung moments in the natural world from behind the steering wheel. This was from one such drive.
It was late summer, and the rain had finally stopped falling, to be replaced by warming sunshine as I crossed from one valley into the next one. The light and the blue of the sky reflected in the road surface, turning it the most lovely and unbelievable shade of cobalt blue. My son snoozed on in the back of the car so I dared to stop; just to look. Just to see, to think and to enjoy the perfect peace of the moment.
There are an awful lot of derelict houses at this end of the valley: a marker of a different time when the hills were more populated, the people eking a challenging living from the unforgiving ground so far above sea level and battered by strong winds. The farms - like the mines which also supported the vanished populace - are long gone now, and the land has been gradually reclaimed by wilder things.
Two block linocut, edition of 10
Hand pulled using oil based ink on several Japanese papers
Printed area approx 6x4”cm, paper approx A4
