Walking with a charcoal pencil

In the old vineyard

A tree in a deep ravine

Tree roots

      


















     In the early foggy morning I woke up with an unexpected thought that I drew sometimes ago. I fished out from the bottom of a travel bag my charcoal pencil, almost forgotten. Taking also an old block note mostly spent for some household stuff notes, I went for a long walk in the mountains with my elder dog. While he was  searching foxes or rabbits I was making sketches. It was so exciting to work with the pencil again. When we making photos we see everything as a camera – objectively and impartially. When we have a pencil we see everything with a fantasy and imagination.