Last week when the sun was shining, I walked up a hay meadow, and came across this hay bale (actually there are two of them), an arrangement of shapes, foreground and background, marking a kind of natural geometry.
Seamus Heaney's poem "Markings" has the following lines:
All these things entered you
As if they were both the door and what came through it.
They marked the spot, marked time and held it open.
This is an 8x10 pastel.
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