Plein air, oil on board apprx. 15 x 20 cm
The first signs of russets in the bracken carpeting the valley walls, the sound of the breeze whispering through the browning fronds, heralds a change of season, still seeming to belong to a distant future. Wheeling overhead a pair of buzzards are borne on the wind. Surveying the landscape below they call to each other, their plaintive cries broken by the high-pitched chattering of swifts and the voices of walkers taking to the cliff paths on the opposite side of the valley.