Wellington street - looking out at Broadway and through to the top of Harpur street.

I had to sit on the Kwik-Fit forecourt (with permission) to sketch this view. One of the mechanics described the architecture of Michael Peters' shop as 'iconic'. It's certainly distinctive - as is the building next to it, built in 1879.

I've been busy with a commission and the thirsty allotment, so this quick sketch was all I had time for.

This sketch adds to Alphasketch 2023 - a part of my 'Road' exhibition at the Basement Gallery, 12-16 Sept.

May trees in blossom along Pax hill today. Has it been a particularly good year for them - or am I imagining that?

I was OK sketching this en plein air this morning - but only because I had a jumper, scarf and jacket. The northeast wind was sharp, despite the June sun. 

Some dog-walkers came and went. I met a man who'd worked with the artist, Clifford Knight (whose work, coincidentally, is currently on show at the Higgins 'We Are Ten' exhibition). 

It's been a long day, and tomorrow I have my writing group. 

The roots of a beech tree on Sharpenhoe Clappers.

The trees seem like great arms reaching down from the sky to cling to the chalky slopes with great hands and knuckled fingers. Tethered spirits. In the background the others, bleached almost invisible against the light, seem to stand sentinel like ghostly presences.

I've painted here before.

The place seems sacred - not just because it was given in honour and memory of two sons who died in last century's wars.

From the road, just outside the village of Sharpenhoe, at the foot of the hill, the path rises next to a field and ends in 141 uneven steps.

At the top, the grove of trees cover the plateau. And between their trunks, you look out into lungfuls of air and birds across Bedfordshire.

Makes me think of Edward Thomas's poem, 'Adlestrop'.
www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/53744/adlestrop

The fruit bowl from Siena with four bananas and two 'easy-peelers'.

This evening I went to the opening of the Higgins exhibition 'We are Ten', celebrating the last ten years of the gallery and welcoming some wonderful additions to the collection.

It was good to meet good, thoughtful people and to discuss the place of the arts in troubled times, and to reflect on the compromises that characterise our existence. 

Afterwards I went to the allotment and dug at dusk. And shared a drink with a friend.

The evening sky was very beautiful.

A chestnut tree on Queen's drive this morning.

I love their gnarled trunks and their impossible candles of blossom. Nature - essentially spiritual in its plurality.

W.B.Yeats - 'Among School children' 1933

Labour is blossoming or dancing where
The body is not bruised to pleasure soul,
Nor beauty born out of its own despair,
Nor blear-eyed wisdom out of midnight oil.
O chestnut tree, great rooted blossomer,
Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole?
O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can we know the dancer from the dance?