Imagine this landscape lying motionless, day after day. Not a breath of wind, just the still air beneath the dark blue sky, the saturated fields, the old trees in the farmyards, the narrow roads criss-crossing the landscape. And the chalk-white clouds sailing slowly by. The atmosphere it created, at least within me, was one of solitude and belonging at one and the same time. And of endlessness and closeness – everything was small, everything was local, houses stood singly, villages too, at the same time as the vastness of the sky seemed to drag everything towards infinity, not infinite space,
...more
His landscape writing is always superb.
