At last I've found time to complete this oil pastel painting of Draper Road descending down from Slack, as seen from across the valley at Old Town.
I see this view frequently as its on the route I take for my constitutional walk whenever I feel in the mood. Obviously, things haven't looked quite like this for many many months, but unless its extremely foggy, you can always catch a glimpse of Draper Road glinting through the trees.
Sometimes in Winter its a silver curlicue in a world of black and grey, but the best way to experience Draper Road is on a hot day in late Spring, flying down the hill on a bike. The corner dropping into the trees is quite tricky and a bit scary if you're going too fast, but once past there its an intense freewheeling descent under the dappled canopy through invisible waves of
bluebell and leafmold. The same journey in reverse however, is a horror of sweat and toil too ghastly to dwell on ...
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