I ponder the field and what the hounds had suggested as they cried in frenzied sounds and ran forward before my horse, his steady gallop trampling the mix of foot prints from the hunters and the intended. A smell in the air of death approaching, hints of autumn. My eyes fixed on obsticals that eventually caught the better of me, my horse. The hounds confused scatter, noses in the air, direction unknown and finally we turn back. As now I have been out foxed and I am left to conclude, the warmth of a brandy and a feast. The only kill to be made today is that of desire to capture a creature of God. This I ponder and so the fox ponders fate. C.e.k. Nelson
My watercolor painting shows the relief , stipping garments from both human and equine, after a long days hunt in the field. A still life, this was meant to be soft and exhibit the colors found in autumn foliage.