Hens at my friend's house

Today I got my inks out and took myself to my friend’s garden to paint her hens. Everytime I looked up, brush poised, they would run away and dig, bottoms in the air. After a little while my senses sharpened and with the dog chasing the cat over my sketches, jamjars of water spilling, the sun dappling my subjects, calm replaced chaos and the paint strokes became stronger and quicker. The colours I used reflected the character of the birds, pecking and scratching at the earth. The mood was good and I came home happy with the paintings.