Light, bulbs

With the light come the bulbs, this week, drifts of crocuses. I’m glad of the work I put in last Autumn, replanting saved bulbs and putting in new ones.

On a day too sparkling to draw indoors, I hug the Winter sunshine and watch.

In the pots, the flowers are open, little bee magnets. As I look, one mauve becomes many, an overlay of magenta ink here, dry brush flecks there, smart white pinstripes on petals and leaves. The stigmas and stamens, glowing, need a highlighter.

Under the hydrangea, the crocuses are closed in the shade, glossy against the grey-green ground cover. I throw on some full-strength ink to get the saturation of colour and work dark to light.

As I write, the colours remind me to gather the crocuses as they go over. Sketches done, the flowers themselves will be good for ink.

Ballpen, watercolour, fineliner and highlighter on waste paper.

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