. . .just to get the sketchbook and watercolors outside in nature,
to set up the three legged stool and have it sink into the soft forest bed,
to use the lap as a table and the eyes as a sponge to soak up the shapes and colors of the trees and plants,
to forget that it’s just a bit too cold in the shade,
to remember to include what is of greatest interest before you,
to know that you will not forget it when it goes into the sketchbook
where it will always be there to fire off distinct sensory memories of those moments along a trail on a winter afternoon. . .
The sketchbook rarely comes along on nature walks these days. The walks are more about exercise and contemplation. But for a change, last week, a stop along a trail. . .at a complex forest scene, as seen looking down into a ravine from a distance . . .
While on an earlier page of the sketchbook, a precious memory from a trip to Ireland four years ago:
Painted from one of my photos taken on the trip. It made me remember how much I loved being there, in a way that will never leave me, and surely bring me back one day.