Ice Bird

Last week a cloak of snow and ice wrapped itself around the fields and hills.  Gone were the leaden skies and muddy lanes: we were rewarded with pristine white drifts and blinding sunshine.


The frozen puddles produced intricate patterns, ripples held in time, trapping bubbles and other treasures.  I spent the afternoon tracing lines onto silk with silver gutta and then painting delicate shades of purple.

"I like your bird" said my daughter as she breezed by.

"What bird?"  I didn't realise that my swirls and twirls had created hidden shapes!  What else was hiding beneath the ice?