Today, with sore knees and a windy morning, I seek out a spot that has shelter and scenery right at the car. I find a lovely little campground with sun glowing on golden trees just around a river bend. As the morning warms up, I take off my coat, enjoying the march of light across the valley. It's such a pleasure to do more than one painting in a spot. Instead of tearing down my paint kit, I move it a few feet to a different viewpoint.
Lunchtime I spend lying on my back, looking up at the tree patterns. High in the nearest tree, I think I recognize the pendant small cones of hemlock. But the next tree over has larger cones and I can see no difference in its bark. I have a lot to learn about tree identification. If I could live here for a year, no doubt they would all become as familiar as aunts and uncles.
Not knowing what they are, I content myself with looking at branch patterns. Each branch collects a different amount of light, so my Sistine Chapel has varied shades of forest, sap green, and veridian.
Lunchtime I spend lying on my back, looking up at the tree patterns. High in the nearest tree, I think I recognize the pendant small cones of hemlock. But the next tree over has larger cones and I can see no difference in its bark. I have a lot to learn about tree identification. If I could live here for a year, no doubt they would all become as familiar as aunts and uncles.
Not knowing what they are, I content myself with looking at branch patterns. Each branch collects a different amount of light, so my Sistine Chapel has varied shades of forest, sap green, and veridian.
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