“There are no lines in nature, only areas of colour, one against another.” – Edouard Manet
I was at my patch a few days ago, the sun was blazing down on my face as I walked down to my usual vantage point; the air was still and warm, if a little heavy. I set my scope and chair up at the south-east corner of the lake where I feel I am afforded the best panoramic views and I sat.
Initially I didn’t actually look through the scope, I just observed the lake with the ‘naked eye’ and took in my surroundings. As I took stock, I felt as if I was staring at a landscape painting and being absorbed into it. The colours laid out in front of me were so sharp and vivid in the midday sun, that they all seemed to blend into one.
The lime and mint greens of the lakeside and surface vegetation coalesced with the midnight black water surface. Intermittently this would be so lit up by the sunlight that it transformed to glass and I could see the caramel coloured lake bed. Moving upwards the dullness of the water was sliced across by the surrounding vegetation, meeting in a confusion of yellows and greens. As my eyes rose further, the greens became darker and stronger as they turned into deciduous trees; standing majestically above the reeds and shrubs at the lakeside. These formed an undulating border with the azure blue sky, with no wisps of cotton-wool-like clouds to be seen.
Time had stopped as I’d fallen into the melting pot.