In the Dead of Summer I remember the feeling of the heat that would come in waves and at times you could see the waves making things move. The sounds of the crickets that would go silent and the snap of the Broom seed pods bursting open as you brushed past them in the dead grass of the fields. How dry the forest would get when the colours changed to orange, yellow and brown. It was pretty amazing watching the forest come alive again each year at the change of the season in springtime.

Oil on deep canvas