Sika Side

The call across the valley

Autumn in the high country

Imagine a cold autumn evening high in the hills. The air smells of wet tussock and woodsmoke from somewhere far below. The valley is in shadow, but the ridge across from you still holds the last of the light.

From somewhere on that ridge, a call rings out, sharp and strange, carrying across the gully and echoing off the far side. Every hunter, tramper and farmer who has ever spent an autumn in the hills knows that sound, and knows the little jolt it gives you: something wild is out there, and it is telling the world exactly where it stands.

You never see the caller. But for a moment you can picture him perfectly: head up, neck thick and shaggy, antlers laid back, sending his voice out into the dusk.

The artwork

That imagined stag is here on the slate. Shown in profile facing left, he holds his head high and lifted, as though caught in the moment of calling or scenting the wind. His antlers sweep back over his shoulders in long, branching lines. The detail on the neck is wonderful: thick, rough, shaggy fur rendered in countless fine strokes that catch the light like frost.

The engraving fades softly into the dark stone along its edges, with no landscape and no horizon. The slate itself has a rugged, irregular broken edge along the top and right side, which suits the subject perfectly. It feels less like a frame and more like a piece of the hillside.