I spend a great deal of time painting trees, writing about trees, thinking about trees...but rarely do I stop to consider these monuments to forests gone by. They used to carry birds' nests and bugs, the sun and the wind amidst their leaves or needles. Now, many of them carry that magical electron that allows so many of us (myself included) to get soft and lazy. Trees have never struck me as vengeful beings, but if they were...what a sweet revenge it must be.
I don't know why I keep coming back to this creek, but it probably has something to do with the fact that it flows right by our house. The snow flurries fled east, up the slopes of Moscow Mountain, just in time to reveal this absolutely blinding sunset.
I was out chasing clouds when I looked up the hill and saw these cattle backdropped by the last bit of daylight. It immediately reminded me of that scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark, when Indy and his workers are digging for the Ark, silhouetted by the the dawn. These cows weren't doing anything that cool.
Paradise Creek flowing towards the setting sun.
"I was used to a sun that came up over mountains and went down behind other mountains. I missed the color and smell of sagebrush, and the site of bare ground."
I've always tried to use a very limited palette....basically a warm and cool of each primary, white, and burnt umber as a filler when mixing darks. The sky is a different color here, so a few weeks ago, with much fanfare, i thought i would reward myself with a new blue. It has touched my palette once. It's so foreign and strange trying to assimilate it into the drawer with the old tried and true tubes.
It's 70 degrees and sunny outside, and I have a new bike...so the brushes get a day off. 
Whenever we are bouncing through the forest, I try to my remind my husky how lucky she is to get to play there, instead of on some lifeless sidewalk. She usually responds by eating a bug or rolling in something. She must get it. 
Lingering spring snow watching over its future, the waters of the Slate River. Kind of an adventure story, if you think about it. That is some lucky snow... to fall where it fell.
