An old track forges its way, draws seams through fields pierced and riddled with flint. Winding and following the contours of the valley, it hurdles the backbone of a hilly landscape, past a wind-carved rock of elephantine grey, a hollowed out echo of an ancient voice from long ago. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response […]

Perspective in Yellow

Fields throbbing with electric yellow unfold to the foot of an ancient hill quizzically curved like Buddha’s eyebrow. The air zings with peppery pollen as rapeseed, with its Midas touch, starts to paint the landscape golden, and country people everywhere know that spring is finally here. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Sue Vincent’s […]