Nature reserve „Södviks sjömarker“ – week 28
Anne Ørvad Andersson is a fellow artist whom I’ve come to greatly appreciate over the years for her clear and direct way of expressing her thoughts, for her politeness and for her warm personality. Perhaps you remember: In my report in week 13, I discussed the freedom of artistic expression with her. Anne lives right next to a nature reserve, the Södviks sjömarker, known as a bird breeding area. Öland is known for its birdlife (as I also already reported in week 5 on Möckelmossen and on the southern tip of Öland at week 10). After I painted the garden on Anna’s farm (last post, week 27), I drove to Anne for a „fika“. We had a lively talk for about an hour (and I’m afraid I complained quite a bit about the problems with the planning of an upcoming art event) before I left.
Because I had only returned from an artproject at Åland (Finland) some days before and I had to catch up on my other work for the rest of the week, I was on delay with my weekly paintings – again. So I spontaneously decided to take advantage of the beautiful evening and paint another picture. The nature reserve was exactly within the radius of where I would be looking for a motif next time. The idea of being able to continue painting in the evening light was too tempting. So I drove my car a few meters further into the nature reserve’s parking lot, packed up my painting materials again, and set off. Between April and August you have to stay strictly on the paths so as not to disturb the birds during their breeding season or possibly step on a hidden nest. Just a few hundred meters away there is a small viewing platform, and two young women with a little angry dog on the leach were just leaving. They each had binoculars dangling around their necks – birdwatchers, so to speak. „We’re just about to leave,“ one of them called out to me. „You’re welcome to come up.“
I preferred to wait until they had climbed down with all their belongings and then made myself comfortable upstairs in a sheltered corner between the juniper bushes. I sat there for half an hour, enjoying nature, the silence that wasn’t really silent because nature, too, has its sounds. The light became softer and more golden, the few shadows cast by the bushy grass and the bumpy wall grew longer. Then I began to sketch. I didn’t need many strokes, but the distances between the individual objects (fence posts, stonewall, the line of the trees on the horizon) had to be proportional before I start painting.
It was such a wonderful atmosphere. Birds, just like children, seem to be particularly excitable in the evenings. There was chattering, whistling, and shouting, fluttering and chirping… and then suddenly the thunder of hooves. Bisons? No, nonsense, of course not – it’s just that „thunder of hooves“ is such a theatrical expression that makes you think more of bison than cows! Cows graze here in the marshland, and they came running up at full gallop, hesitated a bit when they saw me up there, but then trotted on undeterred.
In any case, I was completely inspired by so much spring, nature, and animal noises when I got home around 7:30 p.m. So here’s my picture in the evening light:
See you soon!
