The river is still and glassy beneath a quilt of clouds. I stand on the dock where it crosses the water, and paint first the sky, which changes subtlely, then the trees, with their quiet greens on this peaceful morning. A light breeze stirs the water. It is so quiet, I can hear ducks across the river, and the cheers of a crowd at a ball game at least a mile away. A few boaters come and go; otherwise Carol and I are alone with the river and the clouds.
I am running out of painting time. Wishing I could spend more time on the water, I quickly put down some color notes, intending to finish in the afternoon in my studio. But when I look at the painting in the studio, I see that I have been saved from overworking the water. I add a few brush strokes and leave the rest. A peaceful river morning.
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