Then Came Autumn
Nominated in 10th (2017) International Colour Awards (Nude category)
“It was dusk and a gentle mist hung in the valleys, illuminated only by the last glimmer of Autumnal daylight. There was delicate moisture in the air and a slight dampness on the short grass surrounding the rock. Rich, earthy smells surrounded me, from the bracken and ancient woodland adjacent to the outcrop. Above the sound of a gurgling brook I could hear a thrush singing somewhere in the distance. Apart from that there was relative silence; no cars, no planes, no groups of chatty ‘ramblers on a mission’, just me in what felt like a lost valley. I was alone and had found perfect solitude.
I enjoyed the feeling of the cool, almost prickly, sheep-mown grass on the soles of my feet, but the rock was warm having basked during a day of unbroken sunshine under clear blue skies. Although the rocky outcrop looked smooth from a distance it was rough beneath my skin, making my body feel vulnerable to its sharp surface. I enjoyed the sensation nevertheless, feeling utterly and intimately connected to ‘my’ rock, a rock carved by glaciers millions of years ago, scratched and smoothed by the weight of ice, but today it was just me, an insignificant speck on the planet. Yet the planet means everything to me; I feel it, see it, and hear it. It provides for me, nourishes me and I am a part of it nevertheless.
As the melody of the Song Thrush drifted away, I lay relaxed, supine, as much of my skin surface in contact with the rock as I could manage, facing the darkening universe above. The rock supported me, it seemed as if the Earth itself was carrying me, a fragile, perishable organic figure, exposed to the air and the elements but wonderfully connected to the land"
This is a snip from the original article which can be read here: http://www.glynsblog.com/2015/09/then-came-autumn-double-page-spread-in.html