26 Indian Summer

Indian Summer, a moment suspended between seasons, memory, and motion. The painting depicts a solitary tree standing in a vast field of long, golden grass, its branches heavy with late-summer foliage. From one limb hangs a simple tyre swing, motionless yet full of possibility. The sky is warm and expansive, and the land rolls gently away, suggesting both freedom and quiet contemplation. It is a scene that feels lived in, remembered rather than observed.

Growing up in the late 1970s and early 1980s, we lived next door to farmland and a forest. That boundary between the domestic and the wild was not marked by fences so much as by imagination. Trees became landmarks, hiding places, and inventions. Making a swing was a small act of engineering and independence: a length of rope, an old tyre, perfect because it was strong, forgiving, and already worn smooth by use. Once hung, it transformed the tree into a gathering point, a place where time slowed and afternoons stretched endlessly.

The tyre swing in Indian Summer carries this history quietly. It is not in use yet, but its presence speaks loudly. It suggests laughter just faded, feet dragging through grass, the creak of rope against bark. The swing becomes a symbol of childhood ingenuity and freedom, when entertainment was found rather than bought, and when the land itself offered everything needed for play.

The long grass dominates the foreground, painted with care and rhythm. It moves as though animated by the wind, flowing like water across the field. As children, watching grass ripple in waves could feel hypnotic, almost oceanic. This visual echo between land and sea blurs boundaries, reminding us how easily imagination reshapes the world when you are young. The grass is not static; it breathes, shifts, and carries the viewer’s eye toward the tree, reinforcing the sense of gentle, continuous motion.

The title Indian Summer refers to that fleeting period of warmth before change arrives at last, a golden pause before autumn. In the painting, this idea extends beyond weather into memory itself. Childhood often feels like an endless summer while you are living it, only later revealed as brief and precious. The warm palette, the soft light, and the calm atmosphere all contribute to this feeling of time held delicately, just before it slips away.

There is also a quiet solitude in the work. The absence of figures allows the viewer to step into the scene, to project their own memories onto the landscape. The tree stands resilient, a witness to seasons, games, and years passing. The swing waits patiently, much like memory itself, ready to move again when revisited.

Indian Summer is not just a depiction of a place, but of a state of mind where land, wind, and imagination meet, and where the simple act of a tyre hanging from a tree can hold an entire childhood.

Oil on fine portrait linen: 125 x 95 cm; 49.21 x 37.4 in (Sold)