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Goose day. We paint near the boat ramp, where all the geese hang out. I’d estimate the flock at between 50 and 80 birds... young ones with fuzzy heads, mature ones, and old geezers that hiss whenever we get close. They figure out pretty quickly that painters aren’t going to feed them. But they march by in a crowd, feet clattering like tap shoes on the pavement. They fly over to escape a dog, leaving a flurry of feathers on my palette. And when the geese aren’t dropping feathers, it’s the cottonwood, which besides providing much-appreciated shade, is lending a textured effect to the painting.

I enjoy the challenge of painting the bridge, trying to give it some variety of color, but keep it from taking over the whole painting. Many spectators stop by, some encouraging, some critical. One tells me that I should buy a blending brush and blend all those brush strokes and color changes away. Take care what opinions you take to heart.