Late afternoon and out and about pike fishing with the low sun in my eyes and, upon turning around, this splendid palette of colours was revealed. It almost makes you want to set the easel up and catch that fleeting impressionistic moment in an oil sketch.
Twenty minutes later and it would have been a Whistler nocturne because the dusk and night dropped in so quickly.
You get some funny looks around here when you are wandering about with a fishing rod but an easel and canvass, you'd have to be painting while camouflaged.
Mind you the boss says, as she's painting the turret, if I bandage my left ear up, talk to myself and stay as cranky as normal I shouldn't have a problem.
Not the problem of being pestered but more the problem of acute loneliness.