Flooded track to field.

This winter promised to be long and some forcast it to have six periods of intense cold. True there has been bitter frost and unusually deep snow but the New Year started with a wet and relatively warm spell which has meant its been possible to roam. In doing so I came across this old farm track with the late morning sun streaming down through skelital branched trees with glistening ivy covered banks and an almost perfect mirror reflection. It is an image that sums up for me this time of year in Central Brittany when it is possible to see deeper into the heart of this landscape uncluttered by summer boccage and fields crammed tall with maize. Winter sunlight has a special quality that simply by its rarity lifts the spirit and in the protected shelter of the farm lanes spring seems so close you can smell it. Gone are the fungal decaying months of autumn along with the fettered house bound mid winter hibernation and hope returns anew with a fettling shaft of sunlight. Contre jour the silhouetted trunks partition the light over faultlesss waters that demand of the child within to hurl a twig and ripple that mercury surface with little outward curling waves.