At this time of year we ride in the evenings or early mornings, less of these, to avoid the heat and flies of the main part of the day. This August evening, I went for a late ride on Mr P. (my big horse) under an almost full moon with stars blossoming above us in the quiet, post harvest nightfall. We made our way along the ‘Crooked Mile’, a wiggly path that runs along the wooded bank of the Yvel river. The landscape was still and silent, the fields dotted with big round bales casting moon shadows. The only movement was bats and owls about their silent nightly business. Mr. P. stops from time to time to listen, he can sense the hidden animals in the woods and hedges.
Nights like these bring the work of Samuel Palmer (1805 - 1881) to mind. His dark depictions of rural scenes by moonlight have always fascinated me.
I’m always drawn to troubled artists and Palmer is no exception. I particularly enjoy his pastoral scenes , largely made while he was living in Shoreham. In these works he found mystery and and romance in the peasant landscape. Perhaps a bit twee, perhaps because of his association with ‘The Ancients’, Edward Calvert, George Richmond and the like, these works were not well received and in fact, after Palmer’s death, many were destroyed by his surviving son who burnt -"a great quantity of father's handiwork ... Knowing that no one would be able to make head or tail of what I burnt; I wished to save it from a more humiliating fate".
I was privileged to see a large exhibition of Palmer’s work at The British Museum some years ago. It has left a lasting impression on me and on nights like this, in deepest, darkest rural France I relate strongly to his visionary motivation.
A lovely post, Liz. I noticed that moon, too. It lit up the whole garden.