Thank you! Extremely difficult, nay, nigh-on impossible to get an accurate photo of this painting… maybe due to the impasto… the tree in question, a mature sycamore, is densely branched, more so than any other tree I have ever seen… within the ‘sphere’ of branches and twigs atop the trunk there may well be more wood than space.. there is also a great deal of lichen, mosses, ferns, and what-not nestled in the nooks and crannies… there is a fine poem by John Clare, the so-called ‘Northamptonshire Peasant Poet’, about the sycamore:
In massy foliage of a sunny green
The splendid sycamore adorns the spring,
Adding rich beauties to the varied scene,
That Nature’s breathing arts alone can bring.
Hark! how the insects hum around, and sing,
Like happy Ariels, hid from heedless view—
And merry bees, that feed, with eager wing,
On the broad leaves, glazed o’er with honey dew.
The fairy Sunshine gently flickers through
Upon the grass, and buttercups below;
And in the foliage Winds their sports renew,
Waving a shade romantic to and fro,
That o’er the mind in sweet disorder flings
A flitting dream of Beauty’s fading things.
peter robinson fine art 
The greens are in different hues and the yellows add a nice effect! Good Work!
Thank you! Extremely difficult, nay, nigh-on impossible to get an accurate photo of this painting… maybe due to the impasto… the tree in question, a mature sycamore, is densely branched, more so than any other tree I have ever seen… within the ‘sphere’ of branches and twigs atop the trunk there may well be more wood than space.. there is also a great deal of lichen, mosses, ferns, and what-not nestled in the nooks and crannies… there is a fine poem by John Clare, the so-called ‘Northamptonshire Peasant Poet’, about the sycamore:
In massy foliage of a sunny green
The splendid sycamore adorns the spring,
Adding rich beauties to the varied scene,
That Nature’s breathing arts alone can bring.
Hark! how the insects hum around, and sing,
Like happy Ariels, hid from heedless view—
And merry bees, that feed, with eager wing,
On the broad leaves, glazed o’er with honey dew.
The fairy Sunshine gently flickers through
Upon the grass, and buttercups below;
And in the foliage Winds their sports renew,
Waving a shade romantic to and fro,
That o’er the mind in sweet disorder flings
A flitting dream of Beauty’s fading things.
A beautiful poem to accompany a beautiful picture! Good art my friend!!!!!
Simply great.
Thank you. I try but my heart is not in it. Huge tree but it seems almost to disappear in the glaring bright (wet) sunlight.
Looks substantial to my weak eyeballs!