The November Estuary
Posted Nov 2021 (archived)
I know quite a few people who actively dislike winter with its long dark nights and unpredictable weather. But I love this season, and especially the autumnal transition. The shortening days bring busy activity as nature prepares for the hard times ahead and there is much of interest for the naturalist.
November is a good time to be visiting estuaries. Although migration may begin for some waders back in July, now is the time that larger numbers build up. And this is typically the time that I start to make more regular visits to my local estuaries in search of drawing and painting opportunities.
All of the pictures shown here are on-the-spot field sketches, with the exception of one (discussed below) that was finished back in the studio.
As an artist, I find estuaries rewarding places to work. I can settle down in a (hopefully comfy) spot and immerse myself in the spectacle. If I'm lucky, there will be lots of birds, many different species and all sorts of activity; there will be mudscapes, landscapes and skyscapes. The tide will come and go and the bird activity will change with it. The light will change as the day moves on: it is a dynamic landscape. If I'm less lucky, there will be disturbance or simply few birds to see... but there is always something.
I particularly like the compositional opportunities presented by groups of different species. There may be contrasts in size, shape or activity. I always enjoy watching tiny hyperactive dunlin scurrying around the sculptural forms of much larger sleeping or preening waders.
Winter light can be fabulous, arguably better in the short days of December and January. The sketch below (a double spread in the sketchbook) was done towards the end of the day, a momentary brightness illuminated the background mud and water, while the waders and foreground remained in a deep shadow. The sketch didn't quite come off — I should have been a bit bolder or perhaps more reckless with the paint.
The picture below was started in the field — it was a moment in time and I liked the combination of species, the movement in different directions and the flotilla of wigeon passing by. I started painting, but didn't have time to finish. So I tidied it up back in the studio. It seems to me tighter, more static, and less interesting than the other sketches. Not a surprise: that's what normally happens! I can rarely recapture the "on-the-spot" energy and freedom back at home. The prancing little egret doesn't seem quite right — a bit unbalanced perhaps — it will fall on its beak if it doesn't get its front leg down pretty quick: no wonder the curlew is looking at it askance! But it was moving quite fast and I guess that's what I saw (or thought I saw).
In the salt marsh
Birds often rest amongst vegetation in the salt marsh. I like the patterns created by the partially hidden shapes. Lapwings particularly seem to like hiding amongst the tangles of vegetation.
Diminutive dunlin can all but disappear. Unfortunately I've never quite managed to make a satisfactory "finished" painting of these somewhat abstract patterns. Perhaps they would lend themselves to a bit of printmaking: something to try.
Resting birds often spend time preening: here is an opportunity for some interesting and unusual shapes and patterns, as illustrated by this oystercatcher.
