I live right next to a beach, which is lovely, but I also crave greenery and trees. We are so lucky to have a small woodland nearby, just a few minutes from the house. It was during a quiet walk beneath the tall trees that I thought it would be lovely to base my second collection of fabrics on this area of woods. There is something quite magical about woodlands. I think it is because you feel enclosed by the canopy of branches and leaves above. There are no long vistas to look out over, so your attention is drawn to the small details of your immediate surroundings. All your senses are bombarded: the way the sunlight filters through the leaves, making dappled light and shade in shifting patterns; the springy moss underfoot in fresh greens; the feathery feel of grasses; and the dry crackle of leaves in my hand. The breeze moving through branches heavy with leaves, the rustling of the undergrowth, and the damp, rich smell of the earth and foliage. There is always the anticipation of spotting the little creatures and wildlife that live among the dense undergrowth. A woodland is where you really can appreciate and experience the changing of the seasons: from the delicate uncurling of fern fronds and the first buds on the trees, through to the cool greens of summer, and on to the vibrant orange, brown, red, and yellows of autumn. This is when the squirrels are most active, chasing each other around the trunks of trees and collecting food for the coming months. It is always fun to stop and watch them as they leap from branch to branch. Then it is into winter, when the woods become more monochrome, with intricate patterns made from twigs and branches against a pale sky. This is where my love of pen and ink and making black-and-white patterns comes in. A woodland is like a story waiting to be discovered, and I hope that I have captured some of it in this collection for you to enjoy.