This painting was created for Christmas, but its heart comes from a warm late‑summer evening in the village.

I was walking along a quiet back road at home when I saw him — a roe buck standing right in the middle of the lane. He looked at me, unbothered, then crossed the road, changed his mind, and crossed back again.

It was then he stopped, perfectly still, and swung his head round to look at me. The pose was so striking, so deliberate, that I photographed him immediately, knowing I would paint him one day. Moments later, the doe stepped out of the trees — delicate, cautious, and utterly beautiful. They crossed into the long grass and simply watched me continue my walk, as if granting me permission to pass.

For the Christmas painting, he became a white hind — a creature of folklore and quiet magic. I placed him among snow‑covered pine trees beneath one of my favourite winter skies: soft pinks and blues fading into each other. The scene feels peaceful, still, and slightly enchanted, as if the world has paused just long enough for him to appear.

In folklore, following a white hind is said to lead one toward deeper spirituality. It felt right — a gentle symbol for the season, and a way to honour that unexpected summer encounter that stayed with me long after the warmth had gone.