Art attack left me feeling sheepish

On A warm, sunny evening in Portinscale, near Keswick in the Lake District, I decided to go to nearby nichol End, where I sat on the decking around the edge of the lake with my sketchbook — my latest hobby. There was no one around in this fantastic scenery, during a spell of beautiful weather — until suddenly, a loud American voice broke the silence. I glanced across and saw a loudly dressed couple strolling along in my direction. ‘Oh gee, honey, there’s an artist, I must see what he is doing.’ The male partner, in an equally loud voice, replied: ‘He probably needs to be alone, best not disturb him.’ The lady said: ‘But, honey, he may be a famous artist.’ I smiled to myself at this, but did not turn around. ‘I am going to look,’ she declared, to my embarrassment. As I heard her heels clicking on the decking as she approached behind me, I closed my sketchbook. Over my shoulder she spoke: ‘What a beautiful evening! I sure would like to have a look at your artwork.’ I did not say anything, but slowly opened my sketchbook. Giving a slight gasp, she added: ‘Well, thank you,’ and quickly tripped back to her companion. ‘These English are just strange people,’ I heard her say as they walked away. I smiled to myself and looked down at the page full of cartoon sheep I’d drawn.

Colin Middleton, Leeds.