Living so far from any ocean or sea as I do, I have forgotten the many different hues this force of nature takes. I content myself with rivers and brooks, a lake or pond. These too take the colours of the day, transform them to and fro, but one has to calculate angles, time, position, not always possible when edged by a field with a bull for example...
This essay is filled with an enviable deliciousness of positioning to not only see but to be overwhelmed, I loved every word! Thank you for sharing...
That was a fascinating look at the colour of water - it made me realise that I don't ever think of water as a definitive colour - you're right that it constantly shifts. Your work in progress looks great!
I remember, growing up (particularly in the second house we lived in, in Stenness), always taking time out of my day to stare at the waters, whether the burn of Ireland, Scapa Flow, or out beyond Hoy Sound to the Atlantic beyond--it was never the same. Even when I was young I would appreciate that, so how could I not now? When we moved to Deerness I found the North Sea by comparison staid, quiet, grey and somehow tame, even in the wildest of storms.
Many thanks for this, I'm a real fan of words for colours at all times but, when applied to a subject like this it is poetry and lush magic all at once.
I live so far away from the sea that I rarely visit it, so you photos and this piece of writing are very welcome. I can look at lakes and ponds and rivers though, so water is close. Even puddles of rain have their beauty at times. You've really brought out the colours of water here and thank you for letting me see it through your eyes.
Living so far from any ocean or sea as I do, I have forgotten the many different hues this force of nature takes. I content myself with rivers and brooks, a lake or pond. These too take the colours of the day, transform them to and fro, but one has to calculate angles, time, position, not always possible when edged by a field with a bull for example...
This essay is filled with an enviable deliciousness of positioning to not only see but to be overwhelmed, I loved every word! Thank you for sharing...
Essays like this one are why I adore Substack. Thank you so much for this
What a gorgeous piece of writing. Thank you.
A lovely piece, Sam. I love the light on the water this time of year. No two days are the same.
That was a fascinating look at the colour of water - it made me realise that I don't ever think of water as a definitive colour - you're right that it constantly shifts. Your work in progress looks great!
I enjoyed this immensely. Thank you and your art looks stunning too.
Ah, but you make me miss the ocean.
I remember, growing up (particularly in the second house we lived in, in Stenness), always taking time out of my day to stare at the waters, whether the burn of Ireland, Scapa Flow, or out beyond Hoy Sound to the Atlantic beyond--it was never the same. Even when I was young I would appreciate that, so how could I not now? When we moved to Deerness I found the North Sea by comparison staid, quiet, grey and somehow tame, even in the wildest of storms.
Many thanks for this, I'm a real fan of words for colours at all times but, when applied to a subject like this it is poetry and lush magic all at once.
Thank you for beginning my day with all this gorgeousness. I am spilling over... ✨🌕
Gorgeous.
It is easy to breathe deeply while listening to this.
Thank you.
I live so far away from the sea that I rarely visit it, so you photos and this piece of writing are very welcome. I can look at lakes and ponds and rivers though, so water is close. Even puddles of rain have their beauty at times. You've really brought out the colours of water here and thank you for letting me see it through your eyes.