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I took my canvas, paints, picnic and a wee drop of whiskey[!] deep into the forest. I crossed swollen streams, balancing on fallen boughs, and climbed up the steep banks of the ancient forest. The beech trees are a thousand years old and, way back then, the trees were pollarded and this encouraged them to grow multi trunks in a circular formation. I call them 'Saxon Circles'. The clouds scudded across the sky, the sun casting long shadows on the forest floor. The fresh spring beech tree foliage shone lime green against the burnt sienna of the sloping bank.