St Abb's National Reserve

St Abb's National Reserve
View from my office

Thursday, 17 July 2008

That's the art tour over with- no 'phew' moment this year, strangely enough; I'm usually lying in a darkened room with a towel over my head, but so much to do, I'm straight back up to Natasha's to sketch and finishing other projects.
The little drama company I'm involved with is performing in Bamburgh Castle on Saturday morning at 11.30. come along if you don't mind paying the entrance fee to come in!
A little incident I wanted to share- at Natasha's- lovely day, had this enormous canvas propped up to paint a particularly beautiful bed of roses (Geoff Hamilton, apparently), foxgloves and huge aliums. I stopped, hearing a scuffing noise accompanied by a high-pitched chatter.
Looking up ,I spied a hacked-off looking squirrel in the lower branches of the box tree that towers over the garden. I tried to get on with my work after (I thought) exchanging pleasantries with the squirrel but it really wouldn't let it lie. It continued stamping its little feet and chattering at me; 'ah, I thought, it objects to my presence.' I moved under the tree. I peeped around the enormous trunk to see a squirrel-shaped silhouette, peering the other way around the trunk.
The chattering began again.
'Alright, alright.' I thought and abandoned my canvas, feeling the creature was cross enough to launch an assault (don't laugh, I could picture me at the vet's having the squirrel removed from my hair!). i went indoors, feeling eyes follow me across the gravel.
I took the opportunity to have a drink of water, waited a moment and returned to the door. Who do I see, glaring furiously (I swear it was!)? It was bent, peering right into the hall to where I was standing! I retreated and watched the squirrels progress from a tiny window.
It made its way to an apple tree and skirted the garden, SAS-style and disappeared from sight.
I returned to the canvas, safe in the knowledge I wasn't disturbing the locals anymore.