The Creek

The light is somehow different here. Even in the middle of winter there is a warmth that glows behind the trees and creates glass-like shine and reflection on the silky mudflats. The short winter days mean that, irrespective of when I begin my walk, I will spend some time with angular, blue/gold light - lengthening the shadows and sharpening the reflective qualities of the water. The trees, in their shadow form, skirt the horizon, adding charcoal blackness to the palette, fading to almost lilac at their tips. The infamous Suffolk reeds frame the edges of the creek, platinum waves rippling in the fresh breeze, the golden stems rustling with an almost metallic chime. They are home to me, those reeds, they mean lazy summer days, breezy Autumn walks, fresh spring rain…