On one of my morning walks I took along with me some Indian ink, dip pen and a pad of drawing paper. Went to the source of the river Liz, and saw this crazy old fig tree. It had not started to get the spring leaves and it looked ghostly silhouetted against the background vegetation. Temptation gave way to action and the pen was dipped into the ink and dragged over the page. And so flew a couple of hours.
