Foggy again, less windy, but definitely misting. I drive to Ona Beach, and set up under my tailgate, facing a group of Aspens along a stream. The scene is placid, complex, and very green. I suspect, as I mix my greens, that this is going to be a problem. Indeed, I have a great deal of difficulty differentiating the greens in the foreground from those in the background.
Not a speck of wildlife appears to challenge the spitting fog. A kayak or two ambles by, leaving ripples in the green water. The landscape against the brilliant yellow and orange looks even more green.
A photographer passes by, looking for a way down to the creek. He’s interested in the water, not the trees. I am in love with the twisting leaning branches, and the variety of colors on the trunks that are not green. The mist gets heavier. I pack up my paints.
Bringing the painting into the house, I take a quick look. I was afraid of that. Way too much green. Greens running into each other, a complex, monotonous soup. These things happen.
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