Wednesday, 4 February 2009
I've said it before, but I don't mind repeating myself, especially with hot-off-the-press new images to support my observation. Handmade wooden fences in the snow hold something magical for me, for which the nearest literary analogue I can find is Japanese haiku poetry. Both are minimalist, spare, hardly there, but in both, every element counts to the maximum and is sharply differentiated from its neighbours. Here are yesterday's finds as I returned home from visiting the school - not a motion-blurred shot among them! The top and 3rd images are in greytones only; in the others, the newness of the cut wood is obvious. Give it a few more months in strong sunshine and its browns and yellows will have bleached to greys.