Not the best painting I did but the one that sums up a magical time and place
After a tea from the van at Ribblehead , we walked over fields to Thorns Gill. Ignoring the picturesque packhorse bridge , I walked further down Gayle Beck (the main feeder into the the Ribble) and sat on a bank containing lots of grassland plants (thyme, potentilla, harebells), shaded by fruiting rowan trees.
I sat for a long time listening to the sounds of water before I ventured down to the stream to fill up my water pot (and retrieve my roll of masking tape ) before committing paint to paper.
A tranquil place (apart from the odd fighter jet!) and one that I held in my mind on my 7hr return journey by train the following day as I tried to exclude the raucous card games of a stag party ( the downside to travelling before a Bank Holiday)