On the opposite side of the lane from the snowdrops in the copse, there is an unploughed field still bearing the stubble from a late harvest. My attention was attracted by the sharp, textured pattern, highlighted by the bright sunshine.
(Click the image to enlarge)
I often experience a, perhaps, irrational feeling of sadness when I encounter a stubble field. The stubble field is a memorial to those once proud golden crops that have been scythed down in their prime by huge mechanical bullies called combine harvesters. When the carnage has been completed only the defiant stalks remain, together with any rejected, waste straw.
See also related posts Colour or Black and White? and Abstract 131
This abstract pattern is derived from the devastation and chaos left behind in a cornfield after the crop has been harvested.
So, I think we can say farewell to the winter. But before it officially ends I would like to post one or two ‘winter abstracts’. These are simply black and white abstract patterns created by plants, stubble and grasses protruding through the carpet of virgin snow. Initially I planned to include them in a single post, but it then seemed that each required its own space.