My daughter has drawn out my memories
YOU know that feeling when your kids jump ahead of you in their achievements and, yes, I understand that, that’s the way it’s meant to be.
But when I got up one morning and found this drawing by my 16-yearold daughter, Niamh, propped up on an easel in front of a trio of my new paintings, it was a wry smile that spread across my face.
I think we inspire each other, although I have to say that, on this occasion, her wolf, stag and bear stole the show and everyone who comes in the gallery is drawn to the pictures.
So far three people have wanted to buy it and two have asked if they can use the design for a tattoo.
For me, they bring back three wonderful memories of close encounters in the wild, and even though I don’t have space here for the thousand words they bring to mind, I’m off in turn, to Poland, Scotland and Finland. Catch you later.
To my right along an ancient track were drilled lines of a hundred thousand skinny birch in perfect order, to my left were the foggy outlines of eight European Bison, while behind nestled the village of Bialowieza and in front the last great primeval broad leaf forest in Europe.
It was a dream come true to see the bison but there was something else in the air, the smell of a wolf.
As a large male had been seen the day before where I was walking, I could just about hear the sound of my thoughts above the beating of my heart.
A couple more bison shuffled off noisily into the camouflage of the trees.
They had been disturbed and, as I took photographs of their giant hoof-prints in the snow, my lens settled on the unmistakeable paw-prints of a wolf.
That was good enough for me.
Niamh’s stag is more fallow than red but a sighting of the latter in Argyll was brought to mind from 40 years ago.
After walking 12 miles in the rain to West Loch Tarbet from Achnamara, to visit the tiny cinema, the irony of what was on the bill was not lost on me as I shivered my way through Lawrence of Arabia.
On the return leg a red deer stag emerged from the darkness of the sitka spruce and calmly walked by me on the road.
We were no threat to each other and I wished him well as he passed.
The brown bear in Finland was a different story, as we had actually gone to see Santa.
Yep Niamh was involved again and without her asking to visit the Great Man I would not have seen the brown bear as he crossed a forest clearing 300 metres ahead of me.
He stopped and looked back at me and I’d like to think he said, “Aye up Woody”.
As for kids, who’d have ‘em.