We all know Jack Sorenson’s work – his images grace our jigsaw puzzles and greetings cards.

'I didn't have the guts to become an artist, I had the ignorance', he once said, and his paintings sit comfortably outside the great canon of American art, but are wholly entrenched in the tradition. Like those of Norman Rockwell and Edward Hopper, Jack Sorenson’s paintings are windows on America’s soul. Famed for his Western images, gleaned from a childhood on his father’s Texan ranch, Sorenson has always maintained that his paintings tell stories, claiming that ‘in painting you see the whole picture all at once and that sudden impact tells you whether you like it or not’ – perhaps an explanation of his enduring renown.

In ‘The Ambush’, Sorenson has captured, not only a recognisable, universal moment, but the spirit of the Winter season. The boy’s expression not only tells the story, but it evokes the excitement of snow, coupled with its effect on our landscape. In Winter’s harsh landscape, Sorenson recollects an instance from childhood that we, at once, recognise. The same happens in all branches of the arts – we as writers examine our landscape for our writing, like balling up the snow and waiting for that perfect moment.