Two unfinished sketches from Derbyshire Dales today. In the morning I watched some lambs growing up fast: they don't like to come too close and they don't like to keep still.
In the afternoon I sat by a copse at the mouth of Bonsall Lane and watched the road disappear over the horizon. There was an air of foreboding about the farm buildings beneath the dark trees - something about this little convergence of roads having a story to tell.