One evening, just before dusk, the forest called me out.
I wandered, mindful of every footfall in the whipsering wood.
A Thrush and a Veery sang their fluting songs - the mamma
birds putting their babies to sleep, my mother used to say.
Though I often walk this way, journeying at the edge of the
light was an entirely different experience.
I found myself on a mossy stone, where I often sit and sing,
transported by the call of one tiny frog.
I sensed watchers all around, wondering why I came
in the hours reserved for them.
I am grateful to be feeling a bit better, to be full-time in the studio
this summer. I feel free to wander and dream. It has been a long time
since I've had such space. Blue-gray winter shifts to misty, healing green,
and I find myself lost in a quiet meditation while painting this new work.
"Spring Mists", watercolor, 15" x22", VClaff 2013
"Forest Glade", watercolor, 15" x22", VClaff 2013
|painting - almost done|
"Spring Green", watercolor, 11"x30", VClaff 2013
I've been watching a bloodroot leaf change,
and have become obsessed with the sublte shifts in color.
In the studio today, Grace's Grass Woman reached out her
hand and asked for the leaf - a spectacular combination,
I must say! ( and I love the spiraling shadow behind her head)
In the garden, the Mountain Laurel bursts exuberantly
beside the Spirea, but out in the forest, the show
belongs to the laurel.
Rarely do I see the tree frogs, but this mid-summer visitor slept all day
in a crevice on my deck, except when I came around to see if he was
still there. I finally had a chance to thank this beautiful creature for
his song. Go here for a sample of the sounds of summer