Item 04: G. O. Hawkins letters to his family, 2 January 1915-November 1917 - Page 111
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Transcription
[Page 11]
4
boldly thrust a pen and drawn the simple details as a rustic place.
There before me as though of indian ink on the whitest of paper, is a black and white gem.
I shall only describe some of the black of it.
There is no other way.\
A few leafless trees.
A streatch of broken fence
The underwood of a furze tangle
The eaves, one wall, and a smoking chimney of an old farm cottage.
Less than half a haystack
The leafless stems of a hawthorne hedge.
The sombre butts and the under plumes of a pine-wood thicket.
The white and all which is lost in white, I cannot describe.
The picture is as crude as any description, but it has the beauty of being real.
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