Buachaille Etive Mor
37cm x 29cm
Charcoal on Paper
Brume – February 4th 2022
"A damp mist shutters the gap between the hills, stamping down hard against the sodden bog. Whole cliffs disappear, a simple sleight of hand. Lost. Into the silence a pithy, pinched wind comes, trembling the heather, breathing sun across the western flank, pulling the hill back from the brink."
"Snow water trickles, pools, slips in search of more level ground. Two climbers in red jackets belay, traverse, make a pitch for the summit. A pair of golden eagles circle still higher, watch the movements below."
Stob Dearg – March 3rd
"The Buachaille Etive Mor, Stob Dearg. Pools of blue ice reflecting the sky, everything steeped and sunken against this east wind. Serpentine roots of heather curl round smoothed boulders of granite, skelped lichen crusting. Sun shadows as the sky quickly darkens, rain clouds gather. Drawing lines and shapes of moor and rock. Downhill I follow a burn, only a hands width as it travels, carving small canyons in the peat. Here the water falters, slows then drops, cascades, ox bow bends, divides and splits again, smaller and narrower bronchioles over the moss sponge lungs of the mountain. Looking back, snow catches on high ledges, drifts in gullies, zigzagging. A golden eagle swoons the southern flank, a herd of red deer watch as I scratch a likeness of sorts."