The View from Clark's Farm

The View from Clark's Farm, oils on canvas panel, 9" 12."

Last Friday the Howard County Plein Air group was invited to paint at Clark's Ellioak Farm. The day was overcast with the possibility of rain, but a few of us took a chance and showed up-luckily, the rain held off.

We were invited to come right up to one of the farmhouses; there were wonderful 360 degree views from this spot. I chose this one of the rolling hills with ricks of newly harvested hay scattered over the hills. The hills fall away towards a small pond and the trees in the distance made the humid atmosphere more palpable.

I stood in the yard very close to a double gravestone whose inscription had the names of the Clark couple who had owned the farm until the year 2000. Below their names was a motto which I found very moving, "Never sell the land." It must have been their favorite saying to their children. Their progeny have obviously taken the advice to heart: this choice piece of farmland is one of the most beautiful in our area, and one I enjoy painting frequently.

My Solo Fern Walk

The Switchback Trail on the North Branch of the Patapsco River.

The weather was glorious this past Friday--cool and breezy--a perfect day for a hike at the McKeldin Area of Pataspco Valley State Park. I wanted to explore a trail new to me, so I parked at the northern end of the park, the opposite side from the Rapids Trail where I usually paint. I had a small watercolor kit in my backpack and the presence of mind to bring along the fern identification book my son David recently gave me. 

What a stroke of luck! The Switchback Trail was lush with ferns--at least six or seven different varieties that I could distinguish, if not identify positively. About a month ago, before I went on a fern walk at Snyder's Landing near Sharpsburg with a group from the Maryland Native Plant Society, I wouldn't have known what to look for (the MNPS has designated 2011 as the "Year of the Fern"). I learned a great deal about ferns and other plants from several expert botanists on that walk, and saw a number of species that are unusual in Maryland.

Maidenhair and other ferns.

 Ferns grow profusely all along this stretch of the Switchback Trail. The common Christmas Fern (Polystichum acrostichoides) was everywhere, Maidenhair Fern (Adiantum pedatum) scattered here and there on the upper slopes grew in huge, thick stands as the hillsides dipped down towards the North Branch of the Patapsco. Another small fern with yellow-green fronds grew in large stands along the path--I brought out my book to identify it, but couldn't be sure. It had a pleasant, if indescribable scent when crushed--could it be the Hay-scented fern (Dennstaedtia punctiloba)? There weren't any spores visible on the back of the fronds, but the vein pattern didn't seem to match the drawing in the book and the fronds seemed too small. The shape of the fronds seemed closer to the New York Fern (Thelypteris noveboracencis), with the pinnae tapering towards both ends, or perhaps the Marsh Fern (Thelypteris palustris).

Looking down carefully for more clues as to the yellow-green fern's identity I spotted some fronds of a different shape--these were more triangular and the lower set of pinnae broadened and pointed downward. Definitely a different species here--this must be the Broad Beech Fern (Phegopteris hexagonoptera).

Broad Beech Fern (Phegopteris hexagonoptera).

Farther down the path I saw another much larger fern growing from a central crown. The arching fronds were about three feet long, but  there were no spores to help identify it. I continued down the trail until I saw more of this same kind of fern. Among these were some with a few fronds that seemed to have the pinnae torn from the middle, with small brown withered leaves hanging down. The interruptions were only on certain fronds, and yet so consistent I felt this must be a clue to the fern's identity.

Interrupted fern (Osmunda claytoniana).

Flipping through the book I came across it--the aptly-named Interrupted Fern (Osmunda claytoniana). The fertile fronds of this variety have the spore-bearing pinnae in several sets along the middle of the frond. These ripen and wither quickly, leaving spaces in the middle of the frond.

Rock with many ferns.

I came across this lovely rock covered and surrounded by ferns--a stand of New York Fern below, Maidenhair ferns and small Polypody ferns (Polypodium virginianum) growing on it. Christmas Ferns were all around, and perhaps some other ferns I don't know about. I should get some botanists to come on a walk here--I bet they'd have a field day!

Polypody Fern (Polypodium virginianum)

Unidentified fern, maybe Spinulose Wood Fern (Dryopteris spinulosa)?

During most of my hike the peaceful sounds of birdsong and breeze were punctuated by rhythmic noise from the gun club's firing range on the other side of the ridge. The ferns began to thin out as the trail started to turn westward; the stream became shallower and the banks pebbly. The spot seemed just right for a sketch, so I  set up my camping stool and got out my watercolors. The light and reflections on the water were wonderful, and I became absorbed in the task of trying to capture the beauty around me.

North Branch Reflections, watercolor, 5" x 10."

 Sometime later I noticed the sun had gone from the stream--a signal it was time to start hiking back. I retraced my steps, taking more photos along the way and prepared for the steep climb back up to my car. What a wonderful, fruitful afternoon!

North Branch Reflections II, watercolor, 10" x 14."

The next day at home I looked at my sketch and photos and decided the val-hues in the sketch weren't quite right--I'd made the sunlight too orangey, and the pebbled shore was too dark a Payne's gray. In my photo the rocks were lighter and almost lavender. I lifted some of the color from the pebbles and background trying to correct it. Still unsatisfied, I started over with a larger watercolor. I used two very different palettes for each, and may go back to try an oil at this same spot. That's going to be quite a long haul with my oil-painting gear, but the location is definitely worth the effort.

You can see all my photos of the area in my Flickr album here.

June Roses

Red Roses and Robin's Egg Blue, oils on canvas panel, 10" x 8."

The ever-bearing rose bush my sister Silvia gave me a few years back has grown into a glorious sight. The color of its deep red flowers defies my artistic abilities--somewhere between cerise and magenta-cherry--and they bloom in such profusion I've been cutting masses of them for my flower vases, to keep them from being devoured by the roaming deer who particularly savor the buds.

My favorite vase to display them is this glazed robin's egg blue vase I inherited from Mum. My mother-in-law used to love this vase filled with the sky-blue hydrangeas that grew all around her house in DC. I find the contrast with these red roses wonderful. Two or three branches of this floribunda variety are enough to fill the vase.

A couple of days after doing the small painting above I decided to try a quick sketch in pastel--I rarely get to use these brilliant Sennelier pigments in my plein air pastels except in small touches here and there. Wow!

Red Rose Study, pastel on Wallis paper, 6" x 9."
SOLD

The View from Eagle Cove

The View from Eagle Cove, pastel, 9" x 12."

The Howard County Plein Air Group painted yesterday at another location entirely new to me: the Eagle Cove School in Pasadena. The school is just before the causeway leading to Gibson Island, an exclusive gated community on the Chesapeake Bay. I've heard of Gibson Island many times, but have never actually been there, nor this particular neighborhood across the channel. The leader of our group, Deborah Maklowski, happened to know Mary Ellen Geissenhainer, the art teacher at this small private school formerly known as the Gibson Island Country School, and our group was invited to paint on the school grounds.

The yard at Eagle Cove School.

I arrived a little before 9:30 AM and found Deborah and one other artist already there, walking around looking for a place to set up. The day was hazy and promised to be a scorcher, but the best view to my mind, was by the school yard fence overlooking the cove, where there was no shade. The others chose to set up under the shade by the driveway, but I decided to go with my first instinct and set up by the fence.

I rarely paint with pastels en plein air, mostly because I have yet to assemble a professional traveling kit for them, but this time I brought my set of Sennelier half-sticks and the old Grumbacher set of pastels I inherited from Mum (my mother-in-law Margaret). I set up my Guerilla Painter box & tripod and laid the Sennelier box across the palette, leaving the Grumbacher box on the ground. I had to bend down periodically to select the Grumbacher sticks I wanted to work with, laying them on the palette. A sheet of Wallis paper mounted with adhesive onto a piece of archival matboard was my surface.

I wasn't sure just how to tackle the painting--I haven't had as much experience with pastels as with oils or watercolor, so I have not developed any specific method of working. I constructed the main features: the lines of the trees on the right, the water and  horizon, the two boats as the focal point, the near shoreline. From there on I was all over the place, filling in the lights on the tree trunk and drooping branches, then a bit of the darks, a peach wash over the sky overlaid with light blue, coloring the far shore, a lilac wash over the water. It didn't look like much at first, but gradually the painting began to emerge.

I'm so used to mixing my colors in oils that trying to select just the right val-hues in colored chalk seemed impossible--the water was too purple, and needed to be toned down with gray-greens and blues. The touch of blue-green in the bushes in the foreground appeared garish at first, but after consideration, it's a gorgeous color and it works, so I added some touches of the same color to the tree foliage. Voila! It was so much fun, I must try it again real soon.

Looking at Gibson Island across the water, we artists wished one of us knew someone who lived there who would invite us over to paint, so we could cross the causeway to explore this intriguing place. How about it folks--any one reading this who lives on Gibson Island? Would you please invite a group of plein air artists to paint on your island? We'd love it!

Plein Air Olney's Sandy Spring Museum Garden Paint-Out

Woodland Garden, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14."

This past Saturday was Plein Air Olney's first paint-out of the season. The twenty participating artists were to choose locations from five beautiful gardens on the Sandy Spring Museum Garden Club Tour. Afterwards, we would have a wine and cheese reception with a display and sale of the paintings on the grounds of the Sandy Spring Museum.

After our panels were stamped at the check-in, I headed to the first garden off Mink Hollow Road, owned by the Gleysteens. Their large garden extends over a steep wooded hillside and is artistically landscaped with many shade-loving plants, stone walls and paths. The rear of the house with its two-story deck overlooks a wonderful pond with a small waterfall and a bronze heron sculpture. There wasn't much color in this garden other than greens: most of the azaleas had finished blooming, only the blossoms from a few rhododendrons shone here and there, but the cool shade was very appealing on a day that promised to get warmer.

I chose this view looking down the hill, focusing on a rose-pink rhododendron with the morning light filtering through the trees. Greens are always hard to deal with and the variety of hues was so great, it was a real struggle for me, but I think I managed to get the light and atmosphere of the place.

Shades of Purple, oils on canvas panel, 12" x 9."

In the afternoon, I drove back to Sandy Spring to pick up my box lunch and decided to stay on the museum grounds to paint their lovely wisteria twining on a trellis surrounded with irises. The shades of purple were too marvelous to pass up! By then it was getting hot, and trying to stay in the shade, I didn't quite get the composition I wanted. The horizontals of the trellis tend to interrupt the flow of the eye, and I wasn't able to put in the variety of colors I would have liked. This is a painting that one could revisit, perhaps from a different angle, or with different light.

The reception and wet painting sale were fun--all of us artists got to see what the others had painted and helpful comments were freely solicited and offered. There were some sales (though we all would have liked to see more buyers), and the sangria, wine and cheese were delicious!

Contact artist for prices at elemaza@verizon.net.

Daily Paintworks Challenges

Rosebud, oils on canvas panel, 5" x 7." $75.00

Husband's Old Zippo, oils on canvas panel, 12" x 9." $75.00

I discovered the Challenges on the Daily Paintworks site recently and have been enjoying taking them up. Above are two of my entries submitted to the challenges. All of the artists' submissions on this website are so accomplished, it's hard to compete, but I'm hoping participation will bring me a bit more exposure and sales, as well as helping me gain greater skill as an artist.

You can see here all the entries to the A Valentine's Day Rose Challenge and The Zippo Challenge.

Any artist can submit to any of the open challenges; all you have to do is register on the site, sign in and upload your image--your entry will be posted after it's approved by the site administrator. I highly recommend this to all my artist friends: have some fun and challenge yourself today!

Iris Season

Irises in my Garden, oils on canvas, 12" x 9."

Irises by the Fence, oils on canvas panel, 9" x 12."

This week the bearded irises in my garden are blooming--for years I've been promising myself to paint them from life, but their season of glory is so brief, it was only this year I finally managed to get around to it. I've been going out early in the morning to capture the blossoms at their freshest. An added bonus is being surrounded by the wonderful perfume they exude.

The iris with lilac petals and deep purple falls is an older, very fragrant variety that my mother grew in her garden and gave me years ago--I brought it here from my garden in Sandy Spring. The blossoms of the deep maroon variety that was here when we bought the house are showier, but not as fragrant. They are both lovely, though.

I prefer the second painting: I think the effect of the sunlight filtering through the trees catching just a few blossoms works better than in the first painting. My blossoms in the first painting are too evenly spaced--I should have thought more about placement and composition. I had a wonderful time painting them both, though. I hope the blossoms will last long enough to try for at least one more painting.

I'm tempted to plant a third variety of iris for next year--what color should I choose: yellow, pink, or a blue and white bi-color? There are so many beautiful varieties to choose from!

The Church at Oella

The Church at Oella, oils on canvas panel, 9 " 12."

Last Friday the Howard Plein Air group met at Oella, an old village just north of historic Ellicott City dating from the early 19th Century. The town has an old country store and a quaint little church (Wikipedia says it's the historic Mt. Gilboa AME Church) down the street across from the store.

It was a brisk day and the greens of the new leaves and the grass just sparkled. I chose to paint the church because the curve of the street beyond made such an appealing composition (unfortunately, my placement on the canvas cut off the top part of the steeple). Despite this, I think the painting works: keeping the cool violets of the shadows against the warm colors of stone as pure as possible conveys the vibrant scene. I added part of a blue truck parked next to the church for extra punch.

In the afternoon I went back to Brighton Dam to paint another view of the azaleas, but the results weren't good enough to post. Below is a version of the color revisions of previous week's painting--I repainted the trees across the water to blue-green and brightened parts of the foreground for a sunnier look.

Azaleas at Brighton Dam (revised), oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14."

Azaleas at Brighton Dam

Azaleas on a Hill, oils on canvas panel, 9" x 12."

Azaleas at Brighton Dam, 11" x 14."

The Howard County Plein Air group kicked off  its painting year with an outing to near-by Brighton Dam last Friday. The day was sunny if a bit brisk and windy, and azaleas in a multitude of lovely shades covered the hillsides sloping down to the water.

I painted there last year, and everywhere one looks is so gorgeous, it's hard to decide what view to paint. The morning sun shone through the oak trees lining the eastern shore, setting off the tender green of the young leaves. I chose to compose my painting looking through the tall azaleas near me out towards the water (the lower painting) and started with the colors of the flowers, working my way around the painting back toward the distance. Unfortunately, I lost the effect of the light in the painting, and the colors got a bit muddy--not a very satisfactory result. I'll probably repaint this one and see if I can improve upon it.

I went back there the next day to try another painting, this time in the afternoon. In the upper painting I chose a view with masses of azalea bushes stepping down the hill to a path. The effect of the afternoon light slanting through the trees works much better in this painting, giving a true sense of the colors of this beautiful site.

I'd hoped to get back there again a third time before the weekend was gone, but the weather turned and a light drizzle started this morning. I hope to get back there one more time this season before the azaleas finish blooming.

The Ridge Trail at Daniels

Patapsco Valley Heights, watercolor, 14" x 10."

Continuing my exploration of the Daniels Area of Patapsco Valley State Park, the other day I found my map of the park and decided to hike a new trail. This trail climbs up behind a hill by the parking area and runs along the top of a rocky ridge on the southern bank of the river. There are several scenic overlooks where one could still catch glimpses of the river and the valley beyond through the emerging leaves. In another week the vegetation would be too lush to see much until the leaves come down.

This particular spot, with a clump of ferns perched on a huge boulder seemed perfect for a painting so I looked no further. I wedged my camping stool on another rock ledge and worked from this precarious vantage point. After the painting was almost complete I ate my lunch, enjoying the play of light and shadow cast by the puffy clouds. I put the finishing touches on the painting and waited for the paper to dry before repacking my gear. A breeze from the west cooled the unseasonably warm afternoon.

The trail continued along the top of the ridge for another half-mile and then descended a bit. A pair of woodpeckers were calling each other through the forest, and I caught a glimpse of one red head and a flash of speckled wings--probably a red-bellied woodpecker. I saw an old abandoned house I had passed by the week before, but the trail didn't lead there--instead, it continued diverging away from the river.

Further down, a side trail ascended again to another scenic overlook. I went up to orient myself and glimpsed the railroad tracks on the north shore--this must be about where I'd been the previous week when I painted along the river. I went down the hill and back onto the main trail which began to wind along a creek lined with skunk cabbage plants. This trail eventually met up with the riverside trail, and I hiked back on that.

Close-up of Wild Columbine

I looked for the spot where the Columbines had been and there were even more blossoms open this week--several clumps spilled farther down the rock and there was one plant right at ground level so I could take this close-up. Such a beautiful flower!

The Dutchman's Breeches seemed to have finished blooming--I couldn't find a single flower--but the fern fronds were starting to unfurl, and I found Maidenhair ferns, Miterwort, and Star Chickweed on the shady hillsides.

Ferns

Miterwort (Mitella diphylla) and Maidenhair fern

As I was nearing the parking lot, a bluejay screeched at me, and there were two bluejay fledgelings flitting near by, recognizable by their tiny crests.

For more photos of the Daniels Area of Patapsco Valley State Park see my Flickr album here.

Spring Flowers at Daniels Area

Spring on the Patapsco at Daniels, watercolor, 10" x 14."

Taking advantage of yet another sunny spring day, I went out to Patapsco State Park again. This time I chose the near-by Daniels area, noted for its north-facing hillsides with steep rock ledges where unusual flowers grow. I hadn't had a chance to explore this area in spring, and there are a few miles of hiking, so it was best to travel light. I tucked a small watercolor kit and camera in my backpack.

I was not disappointed--the ledges were covered with the fine blue-green foliage of Dutchman's Breeches, though only a few flowers were blooming. Tiny flowers of Early Saxifrage and Slender Toothwort had found purchase on the rocks. There was a brisk breeze blowing from the west, and I was glad I had a warm jacket.

Dutchman's Breeches (Dicentra cucullaria)

Early Saxifrage

Slender Toothwort

The most exciting find was a clump of Wild Columbines high up on a ledge of the tallest promontory. The flowers were a lovely bright pink with touches of yellow. I wanted to find a way to get closer to photograph them, but that could wait until after painting. I would take the photos on my way back.

In the meantime, I continued my hike upstream looking for a likely spot to set up and paint, eventually settling on a bend of the river where the silvery trunks of sycamore maples contrasted with the tender green foliage of the opposite bank. I ate my lunch and started painting. As the afternoon wore on the breeze died down and it got a little warmer, but my fingers were numb from the chill by the time I finished.

On the walk back I found a way to climb to the top of the steep rock formation from a more reasonable slope at the rear, but it was impossible to see the Columbines from above. No way would I risk a fall from such a height. I had to content myself with climbing a few feet up the sheer rock face and use the zoom to get as close as possible for this shot.

Wild Columbine (Aquilegia canadensis)

Early Spring on the Patuxtent River

Early Spring on the Patuxtent River, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14."
SOLD

After several days of rain, yesterday was a beautiful,warm, sunny day. I headed down to one of my favorite places to paint--the McKeldin area of Patuxtent State Park. I love this stretch of the river just below the rapids, the gentle curve of the river and the unusual rock formations on the hillsides. There was only one other person there, a young man with two dogs who were having a great time playing in the water.

Last year I did two paintings at this same spot: one in September which sold within a couple of weeks, and another in October at the peak of color one lovely fall afternoon. I thought it would be interesting to document the same site at a different time of the year, and observe how the landscape changes with the seasons.

At this time of the year tender green shoots are emerging from the branches of some trees, bits of green are noticeable on the forest floor where spring beauties and wild violets bloom. Yet the bones of the forest--the tree trunks and hillsides- are still the main features. I took more time with my painting than I intended, stopping for a long chat with a couple from Ellicott City who were hiking the trail.  I ended up staying 'til mid-afternoon, intoxicated by spring fever.

Purple Asters II

Purple Asters II, oils on canvas panel, 9" 12."

 
This is a studio reiteration of a painting I did last fall at Brookside Gardens which sold. After Tim Bell's lecture in Easton this past weekend, I wanted to experiment with his ideas about composition in a studio painting that could be just as effective, if not better, than a plein air one, providing it was properly "designed." I also went back to re-read my Edgar Payne book on Composition of Landscape Painting. Voila!

Easton Paint-Out Plus

Bullitt House, oils on canvas panel, 12" x 9."

Last Saturday was MAPAPA's first paint-out of the season, held in Easton, a charming historic town on Maryland's eastern shore that hosts an annual Plein Air Art Festival. Easton has gained a reputation as one of the best art towns in the country; it's home to many nationally-known artists, the Academy Art Museum, and the Easton Studio and School, our sponsor. It was to be a "paint-out plus"--local artist Tim Bell  would present a lecture at the end of the day and offer an individual critique of the participants' work. The Easton Studio School would serve a Mexican dinner for the artists afterwards.

It was one of those typical east coast spring days--if you don't like the weather, just wait a few minutes... An intermittent drizzle had been falling all during the drive and it was overcast when I arrived. I parked and checked in at the Easton Studio School. I was walking toward the historic district to select my painting site and looking at the map when my foot caught on a curb and I lost my balance--I fell forward but managed to break the fall landing on my knees first, stopping just as my nose touched the pavement--whew! Luckily, I didn't break anything, not even skin. A lady driving by saw me fall and paused, until I signaled her I was all right.

I ran into my friend Roberta Staat and we walked around looking for sites where we could set up under cover. She selected Mason's porch, a lovely restaurant on Harrison Street, and I agreed that seemed like a good spot. We were walking back to our cars to get our gear, when I spotted this view of the back of one of Easton's historic homes, Bullitt House. It was a complex subject architecturally, but the garden framed the view so well, it really called out to me. There was a large cedar by the sidewalk where I could get some shelter from the rain if necessary, so I came back here. It drizzled lightly from time to time as I painted, but I stayed dry under the shelter of the cedar.

By noon I had finished my painting but was chilled to the bone; I thought it wise to warm up at the school while I ate my lunch. I walked back to the car to get my brown bag. By the time I got back to the school, the sun was dazzling out of a ragged blue sky. I gobbled my sandwich and then ran off to pick up my painting at the Adkins Arboretum, a short distance away. I hadn't mentioned here that my painting, Maryland Veldt, won the second place Leon Andrus Award  at the Adkins Arboretum competition "Discovering the Native Landscapes of Maryland's Eastern Shore" this year.

The run to the Arboretum took an hour. By the time I got back to Easton and started out to paint I had less than two and a half hours left, and it was pouring! Being a die-hard, I went out in spite of that but got so soaked within a couple of blocks that I had to take shelter under a porch. I actually set up right there and tried to paint another street scene, but it was so complex there was no point in trying--it would take too long to paint.

The rain had slacked; I walked over the Mason's to set up on their porch. There was a lovely cherry tree in bloom by an outdoor patio, but somehow the view didn't compose well--I forced myself to start anyway. I struggled with it for more than an hour, obviously not getting anywhere, before I gave up--it would have been better to not push myself at this point. I'd have to scrape off the paint when I got home to save the panel for something better. It was almost time for the lecture anyway, so I went back to the school.

Tim Bell's take on the artist's need to distill from nature was quite interesting. He read several memorable quotes from Carlson's book on landscape painting and Edgar Payne's Composition of Outdoor Painting. I was particularly fascinated by his visual comparison of Edgar Payne's paintings and field sketches of the Sierra Nevada with actual photographs of the sites--I had not realized just how much Payne had not only composed the paintings, but how much "atmosphere" he had added to lend that sense of distance and grandeur to the mountains. I took away much from all these experiences, and the delicious dinner was a wonderful way to end the day. Thank you MAPAPA and the Easton Studio School for a great Paint-out Plus!

The Trillium Trail - Two Views

The Trillium Trail, digital photo (color) on archival paper, 16" x 12."

The Trillium Tail, digital photo (black & white) on archival paper, 16" x 12."

I'm offering these two versions of large size digital prints of one of my photos taken on the Trillium Trail at the Thompson Wildlife Management Area in Virginia one spring a few years ago. This site contains the largest known stand of Trillium grandiflora growing in the wild--the flowers range from purest white through shades of link pink to deep cerise, indicating they may have naturally hybridized with other species of Trillium over many years.There are literally millions of them in bloom! Many other wildflowers bloom here in the spring: yellow ladyslipper, Orchis spectabile, several varieties of violets, Lousewort, Squaw root, etc. making the woods seem like one giant flower garden.

Both photos are beautifully printed on heavy archival paper, and are selling for $150 each as is. Please contact me if you are interested in purchasing one.

Three Sisters Spring Pastel

Paddling to Three Sisters Spring, pastel on Wallis paper, 9" x 12." Contact artist for price.

This past weekend I attended MAPAPA's Annual meeting. This year it was held at St. Paul's School in suburban Baltimore. The opportunity to meet with other members was, as always, a treat, and the artists' demonstrations very inspiring. I was particularly fascinated by the work of Maryland pastel artist Lisa Mitchell; her demo made me want to try out some of her techniques as soon as possible.  I worked this small pastel from my photos of the Three Sisters Spring taken during our January vacation.

I blocked in the composition by brushing turpenoid over the pastel for the under-painting, and built up the finished surface with my Sennelier set of soft pastels. Lisa had recommended using a variety of touches to blend colors and sculpt out details. It was fun to try it out. My palette is somewhat limited at this point, as I only have a Rembrandt landscape set (fairly hard pastels) and the soft Sennelier half-sticks to choose from. I would like to acquire a wider range of hues and some suitable trays to carry the pastels out in the field for plein air painting. If any of you know of sales of Unison or Terry Ludwig soft pastels and foam-lined trays, please let me know.

Spring Fever

Yesterday Herb and I got up early to begin spring cleaning in our yard. We had rented a chain saw to cut down some big branches that had broken off during the winter. Mercifully, this year's snowstorms were not as severe and there were fewer branches down than the previous winter, when we spent three weekends cleaning up the yard. We were done in a couple of hours.

In the afternoon the sun came out and the temperature rose--I noticed one crocus flower bud had poked up in my front yard, but all the others seemed to be at least a week away from any bloom. I figured that Brookside Gardens, being closer in town and warmer, is seasonally ahead, so I drove there to scout out painting locations for the coming weeks.

An expanse of mauve crocus flowers greeted me at the entrance by the Visitor's Center. Further up the path, intoxicating scents of Witch Hazel and narcissus wafted from my favorite patch of birches (see last year's posting A Host of Golden Daffodils). It wasn't quite warm enough for painting yet, but there were enough flowers to gladden the heart on this sunny afternoon.

Kayaking Down the Weeki Wachee

Herb with our kayaks at the starting point.

I'd been hoping to be able to post the finished video I had taken of our kayak trip down the Weeki Wachee River this week, but unfortunately I am still editing it, so I thought I'd post some photos of the highlights. It was chilly the morning we drove down to Weeki Wachee, sunny and clear. In fact, the thermometer never made it over 57 degrees that day.

We put out around ten-thirty and agreed to be picked up at two in the afternoon at Rogers Park, the designated pick-up area for the rentals at the state park, seven and a half miles downstream. The starting point is just below the swimming area near Weeki Wachee's headspring, and the water stays crystal-clear for several miles downstream. The flat-bottom tour boat was coming around the bend just as we entered and honked at us to get out of their way.

Drifting downriver.

I got out my camera and started filming while drifting downriver--the six-knot current propels one right along. After a minute or so we reached the first bend, and it was necessary to stop filming so I could maneuver around a small islet in the middle. As I rounded the islet, the flat-bottom boat was heading back, coming straight towards me and blasting its horn like mad for me to get out of the way, which I managed to do in just a nick of time.

Birdsong permeated the thickets along the river, with the occasional sound of a motor from the road beyond or a plane overhead. I kept filming and drifting, and ended up getting tangled in the branches hanging over the river, or running into the banks when I failed to paddle around a turn--the river is all sharp "S" bends in the upper part.

Herb paddling on the Weeki Wachee.

 The river seemed lower than when we'd been there two years before; we found out later there had been a drought last year. There also seemed to be more fallen trees. At one point my kayak got stuck on the branches of a sunken log and I had to dip my arm in the water to push it loose. The water was a pleasant 72 degrees, but as soon as I pulled my arm out, the cold air made my wet sleeve feel really frigid.

Alligator sunning on the bank.

We saw a good-sized 'gator sunning on the banks, and turtles basking on logs as we made our way down the river. At some point we paddled past the house we had rented two years before and recognized the neighborhood--some of the decks by the river had deteriorated quite a bit since then, and others had been replaced.

Herb way ahead.

A blue heron poses in front of a fake parrot.

Downstream from Dawn Lane the color of the water begins to change subtly as it becomes more brackish--we were now entering the lower tidal zone. A blue heron and a belted kingfisher played tag with us, staying just ahead. There were more houses along the banks on this stretch.

Captain Fred had told us about a place on this part of the river called Hospital Hole--it's a fissure that is 160 feet deep, and divers who attempt it without allowing for decompression time end up in the hospital with the bends. He said once he'd made a bet with a local lad who had no idea just how deep this hole was and thought he could free-dive down to the bottom! Manatees like to congregate around the hole.

Looking for Hospital Hole.

We were looking for Hospital Hole, keeping in mind to bear left to stay on the river (a number of canals go off in this area), when we came across a group of fishermen casting from a large boat. They pulled in their lines to allow us to pass by, and we asked them the whereabouts of the hole. This is it, they said, you're directly over it--one could see the color of the water was different here, a deep sea blue-green. There were schools of large fish swimming around, and then I spotted a manatee cow and her calf coming up for air. I grabbed my camera and noticed there were drops of water on the lens--oh-oh!

Herb and I circled around the hole a few times while I filmed. There seemed to be a pod of about a dozen manatees, with at least three babies. Some of my footage came out blurry from the condensation on the lens, but I managed to get two of the mothers with their calves. One pair came so close to my kayak I could have reached down and touched them, and then the baby turned to look up at me--so cool!

Hospital Hole was very close to the end of the run, and soon we were at Rogers Park pulling up our kayaks on the ramp--we didn't have to wait long to be picked up.

Elena kayaking into Rogers Park.