'Have you ever painted in fog?' This was meant as a joke. So the enquirer was taken aback when I said, 'As a matter of fact, yes.' And rootling through my files I found a blog from the archives ... ~ It was the Autumn of 2016. We had recently enjoyed a spell of good weather with glorious blue skies and temperatures into the twenties, and with the equinox imminent I knew I had to make the most of things. So I arranged to go to Brancaster with friends, where we planned to get some sunny photographs to add to my website. Imagine our chagrin when we reached Brancaster to be greeted by a chilly sea fret. Undeterred, I grabbed my pochade box and painting stool, and we hiked along the beach to the creek which meanders its way into the 'seal pool'. The colony of common and grey seals has steadily built up in recent times, and now numbers in the teens. ~ The seals were enjoying themselves, diving and bobbing up again (seal watchers call it 'bottling') and enjoying a spot of fog-bathing on the opposite bank. I couldn't resist sketching them. ~ Then I set up my pochade box and paints. My friends were expecting to take a few photos while I posed briefly, brush in hand, and then pack up and head back to the comfort of the car. They didn't expect me to actually paint. After all, it was cold and there was hardly anything to see. What they didn't bargain for was that painters have a habit of seeing subjects in the most unpromising situations. Even fog. ~ Here I am, painting into a chilly sea-fret, while dressed for a heat wave in thin summer top and sun hat. I was attracted by the zig-zags of sand and water, the interplay of warm earths and cool greys, and those soft darks in the middle distance, which gave the subject some tonal punch. ~ Before setting out we had checked the tide tables – but as we were soon to discover, Time and Tide have a habit of stealing a march on you while you are otherwise engaged. I had finished the little pochade study and was now looking seawards, trying to discern sky from sea, and mesmerised by the echoing sound of water lapping the shore. Swishing some blue-greys off the palette, my brush was at work again, painting the incoming wavelets and the sheen on the sand. I was oblivious to the fact that the wavelets were getting stronger and the sheen was now pooling around my feet, until one of my companions pointed out that the tide had turned and the water was coming in fast. Shocked into action, I collapsed the easel smartish and we headed back along the beach. Strolling along a beach without a care in the world is one thing. Trying to get off it in a sea fret with the tide racing in and the sand dragging at your feet is another.
'Keep going – don't look back!' But of course we did look back, and were convinced that the sea, half lost in mist, was now on a higher plane than us, and we were soon to be engulfed by a wall of grey water. The thought spurred us on – heads down, sand sucking at our feet, we ploughed forward. Before we reached the head of the beach the water was swilling up against the sea defences. It was a question of timing a long-jump between waves or throwing caution to the wind and splashing through the surf. It made no difference either way, as we were already clammy from top to toe, thanks to the salt spray and sea fret. We splashed through it, kicking up white water. And then we were safe and heading for the car park, with the promise of hot chocolate from the beach café. Unfortunately, we were disappointed on the chocolate front. The café staff had long given up expecting anyone to be so stupid as to be out on the beach in a fog with the tide racing in, and they had pulled down the shutters and gone home. We went instead to the 'Jolly Sailors' at Brancaster Staithe, and thawed out over a delicious plate of mackerel goujons. And we gave thanks that we had survived the afternoon, even if the mackerel hadn't! ~ 'Rising Tide, Brancaster', was painted in Watercolour on quarter imperial 90lb Barcham Green rag paper. 'Seals fog-bathing' was drawn on sketching paper with a 2b pencil. Comments are closed.
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Judith Key
Judith Key is a Norfolk based artist, working in watercolour and pastel. She has exhibited with the Society of Graphic Fine Artists and New English Art Club at the Mall Galleries, London. Her paintings are in collections worldwide. Categories
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