Sunshine afternoon, owl evening

I think this painting is finished now. It had more detail before; I did a white wash over the trees because they seemed too bright on the canvas, and now I’m not sure I like the outcome. Ah, well. It’s just a little snapshot, via paintbrush, of a chunk of our wintry yard. Just to be doing this, churning through practice paintings one after another, makes me feel like the day’s been worthwhile.

I went out at noontime to the beach nearby, to continue work on the little painting I started there a few weeks ago, but the tide was too high for me to get down the path. Here’s a photo I took from the meadow up above the beach (with my shadow in the middle of it,  because the sun was so low):

But I wanted to paint, because the sun was out, and so I did a quick beginning oil sketch of the cove from where I stood in the field above. I’ll either use this as a reference point or a beginning point for a future painting.

I worked fast, stopping when my fingers got too cold to work anymore. (While I painted, I was wearing: cotton turtleneck and jeans, corduroy over-shirt, lightweight wool pullover sweater, fleece vest, heavy insulated sweatshirt, and fleece hood/face mask. It made me feel slightly muffled away from the world I was trying to depict.)

Now it’s evening and the barred owls are calling. A crescent moon hangs like an ornament in the bare branches of the alders close to the house. Tomorrow Bob comes home from the city, bearing cargo so that the two of us can make a holiday together. We’re separated from the kids by schedules and airfares, but we have friends close by. And of course cats and chickens.

But tonight is my last solitary night. I love being alone, the cozy aloneness when your mate is due back soon and all is well. The pure silence of the house, the snap of the fire in the woodstove, (and the chocolate melting in the pan on top of it). I’m so glad for this beginning of the new solar year.