Being a northern man I am used to seeing Autumn as the crescendo of the year. When its then followed by the onset of winters cloak I view it as the end of colour and the beginning of the greys and muted life. Of course there is the exception of the sparkling winter day, the magnificence of a frontal systems sky etc but in general these are splashes of light that we use to brighten up the months of dark . Here in the Casares Valley the autumns seem to make the world a better place. First of all the temperature drops a welcome ten degrees to about 22C which makes it more bearable to paint outdoors. Then there is the rain which comes in torrents and with it the gurgling playful sound of running water in Arroyos and Rios. Then not only does the Andalusian landscape painter have access to the new palette of deeper reds and browns of the autumn woodland but also a new colour, a vibrant green. The footpaths and trackes which litter the valley floor are covered with the palest of green clovers and grasses. As a painter you are spoiled for choice by the richness of colour. Finally in between the woods and ancient fields the Fincas or Farmsteads compete for the prize of who can be the brightest. Often painted in whites, or warm reds, or pale ochres, they stand like castles on the rise of a ridge or like an elven house huddled amongst the trees.
Being a northern man I am used to seeing Autumn as the crescendo of the year. When its then followed by the onset of winters cloak I view it as the end of colour and the beginning of the greys and muted life. Of course there is the exception of the sparkling winter day, the magnificence of a frontal systems sky etc but in general these are splashes of light that we use to brighten up the months of dark . Here in the Casares Valley the autumns seem to make the world a better place. First of all the temperature drops a welcome ten degrees to about 22C which makes it more bearable to paint outdoors. Then there is the rain which comes in torrents and with it the gurgling playful sound of running water in Arroyos and Rios. Then not only does the Andalusian landscape painter have access to the new palette of deeper reds and browns of the autumn woodland but also a new colour, a vibrant green. The footpaths and trackes which litter the valley floor are covered with the palest of green clovers and grasses. As a painter you are spoiled for choice by the richness of colour. Finally in between the woods and ancient fields the Fincas or Farmsteads compete for the prize of who can be the brightest. Often painted in whites, or warm reds, or pale ochres, they stand like castles on the rise of a ridge or like an elven house huddled amongst the trees.
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