Painting 'en plein air' part 1

I don't paint outside very much. I am, by my own, admission what is generally termed a 'studio artist'. This strikes many people as odd because I paint nothing but landscapes but you see, despite all the years that I've been painting, I still don't have much confidence about it. I can still see all the faults and the idea of people watching me while I actually make them is not very inspiring... so I stay indoors. But then... every now and again, I feel the need to get out there and give it another try.

So over the last few weeks I've acquired all the bits and bobs that I needed to launch myself out into the world. New paints, some small canvases, etc - this put it off by at least two weeks! Then I had to find somewhere; ideally not far away, but quiet... another week or so! But finally, this morning dawned and off I set. I had my easel - nice but heavy, with a drawer into which went the paints, brushes, canvas, end of a toilet roll, double dibber (look it up), bounty bar, mars bar... I think that was all. I slung my little tripod stool thing over one shoulder and a tramping I did go.

I got through town without mishap; found the public footpath and went 'off road' up a hill, through a wood and emerged into a very large open area. I think it must have been formal parkland at some time in the past. It has a lot of reasonable sized oak trees; there are sometimes sheep grazing and down towards one end of it: my target. Two oaks trees with a large rusting oil tank between them - rural but with a touch of human intervention... perfect!

I started painting. It was cool and breezy but pleasant enough and to my relief I got through the first hour without seeing anyone. Somebody eventually passed by with a nod and a 'morning'. Later a dog walker who kept going and then another who stopped for a chat. A small lady, perhaps in her 70's, with a Labrador. I had met her before when out looking for somewhere to paint and she remembered me. She told me that the tank had been put there many years earlier by a pig farmer as there was no water up there at the time. The pigs have long since gone.

And then I was left to myself again. The painting came along rather well I thought. The weather remained coolish and a bit windy but I was enjoying it. Perhaps, I thought, this painting outside lark is not so bad after all. Finally after a couple of hours I'd just about got there. A reasonable little sketch sat before me. Should I do any more? I thought about it... distance was needed. I stepped back... two feet... six feet... ten feet... it actually looked quite good!

And then - from nowhere - a gust of wind! The easel pitched forward and like some ancient catapult, fired it's contents! Paints, brushes, toilet roll end, mars bar - all into the air! A tube of titanium white almost took an eye out! The canvas detached itself from the easel and turned gently once, twice, and then came to rest with a 'flup' into the long grass... butter side down!

I decided it was time to go home.

The canvas survived surprisingly well although a considerable part of the sky remained in the grass and now I have grass in the sky...

Shall I venture out again?

I think I will!