Pre-Raphaelite poses, forest maidens and river nymph, captured at the talented hand of Derek Brewster in North East England, surrounded by a spring time of delicate textures, warm breezes and shimmering waters.
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I stood before a chain of beautiful mountains forming a semicircle.
A young, green forest covered them from summit to base.
Limpidly blue above them was the southern sky; on the heights the sunbeams
rioted; below, half-hidden in the grass, swift brooks were babbling.
I heard the hurried thud of light steps,
among the green undergrowth there were gleams of the marble white of
flowing tunics, the living flush of bare limbs…. It was the nymphs,
nymphs, dryads, Bacchantes, hastening from the heights down to the
All at once they appear at every opening in the woods. Their curls float
about their god-like heads, their slender hands hold aloft wreaths and
cymbals, and laughter, sparkling, Olympian laughter, comes leaping, dancing
Before them moves a goddess. She is fairer than the rest; a
quiver on her shoulder, a bow in her hands, a silvery crescent moon on her
~ excerpts from ‘The Nymphs’ by Ivan Turgenev, 1878
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