| Yet unfinished, still confused. | Pulken 2021-01-12. | Oil on masonite plate 40 x 30 cm. |
This afternoon I have been painting on one of my favorite spots in Pulken. In the rather dry meadow (in the driest parts even Trifolium arvense and Sedum acre grow) separating the southern lake and the central, swampy part of Pulken there is a small depression. The wetter conditions and probably greater concentration of calcium in the ground allow for a slightly different vegetation here. Most noteworthy are Herminium monorchis, Epipactis palustris, and Pinguicula vulgaris which are all common. That is -. only on the north-facing slope of the depression! To me this outcome of a subtle alteration in circumstances is a thing of beauty. The surrounding meadow is very beautiful too. In early spring Draba verna is en bloom, then Cardamine pratensis and by mid may Saxifraga granulata colours the meadow a deep white (if such a colour exists). Then the meadow turns a pale yellow as Rhinanthus serotinus takes over.
I have painted on this particular spot a few times before: Late August, when the orchids leaves turn yellow and blackish and Cirsium acaule is in bloom, early July with flowering Pinguicula, late July with Herminium only flowering in the very top, and then also today, when the place looked far from spectacular. Cow dung and hoof prints. Everything grazed almost to a golf course. The range of colours sticking to greens and browns with the Plantago rosettas and Carex accounting for the more vivid end of the spectrum.
The challenge in zooming in on such a miniature landscape is that one suddenly finds one self in the world of insects. What in my “scale”, so to speak, appears as more or less level or sloping stretches of land turn out to be holes, canyons, hills and explosiond of grasses and Carex, when reducing the scale to H0. I find it deeply interesting to paint this land on which we tread, the basis of the ecosystem that support yellow wagtails, ruff and lapwings, flowers on parade through spring and summer. Grazing geese and dancing cranes. Moose and fox. I will never se an end to the depths of beauty that this land has to offer.
Today the sun was shining as I settled down to paint. Freezing blue ice covered the inundated parts of the meadows and the reed beds were shining in the palest hue possible. It was a bit hard to turn ones attention to the ground. As hours went the light shifted. In came clouds, and as evening approached snow began falling. By then my fingers were becoming rather stiff. Thousands of geese came in, anxious about me sitting there. They repeatedly took to the wing, then settled again, making it obvious that my presence was no longer wished for.
I went home through the falling snow, letting the geese settle for the night. My painting isn't finished yet. Tomorrow I will again dive into the confusing lack of clear landmarks.
