I went to Norfolk last week for a couple of photo shoots. The weather was the worst two days in the last couple of months, but it was all planned and deadlines were looming. So I packed up my gear and headed off across the breadth of England.
Driving across Wiltshire and past Stonehenge is always the best bit, I love this road; the fields stretch to the horizon, dark clouds scud across the arching sky. There is a lot of sky. The clouds were menacing but the sun spat shafts of light across the fields, lighting up carpets of new shoots and the skeletons of trees bursting with energy, ready to stage their annual performance.
All too soon I reached Stonehenge and the A303, which shoots off towards London, splices with the M3 before becoming entangled with the hateful M25. The weather worsened as I headed eastwards. However, I saw this, the memory of the light behind the trees stayed with me until I got home, then I painted it.
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