I’ve spent the last week in Broad Oak, Sussex on the edge of the High Weald, for a family holiday. It’s more by luck than judgement that we ended up in that spot, after the original booking got unceremoniously cancelled a few months ago. I’m glad it did. The view from our living room has been green and glorious.

Photos can’t do it justice, the detail is lost and the fence dominates. After a week away from any form of drawing or writing I felt the urge to put pen to paper again.

Like a collage the trees emerge from the morning mist. Verdant strips with torn edges, ragged to the sky.

I realise I needed space to think, to breathe, to consider and to rediscover my creativity. I have a few more days off later in the month, and will be taking my sketchbook. If the mood takes me I hope to find myself pen in hand with words or shapes in my head, ready to flow.

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