Caribou Creek Hill
Yesterday the sun was blazing over the tops of the mountains. As it sinks lower and lower into the southern sky, it will soon be skipping between peaks and we will count the few minutes of sunshine. I make feeble attempts at gratefulness for any sunshine we get, but it is so harsh and lacks any real warmth. It is similar to glaring into high beam headlights. It isn’t really winter until we shovel snow and so far there is just a dusting on the ground that will most likely remain until April. This is late Autumn or early Winter. Ice but no snow.
The robins and songbirds have all left and the swans and geese have packed their tiny bags for their vacation in the relative warmth of the lower forty-eight states. Deserters. Chickadees, nuthatches and woodpeckers flit around the bird feeder and the sun sparkles on their puffed out feathers. Perhaps I’ll sketch them next.
I like this sketch a lot, Suzie. The detail on the left is a great balance for the mass of mountain on the right. Such a contrast, too. Though I am much further south, I, too, am wearing my hoody indoors and don’t seem to take it off until I crawl back into the flannel sheets! Oregon damp,
a special kind of cold…
This is such an interesting sketch, Suzie, with all the detail on the left and that massive mountain on the right. I especially like how you did the white tree trunks.
The color scheme you chose definitely reflects the description and feel one gets reading it. Do you all go through spells of all darkness day and night? I’m not familiar with Alaska.
I really enjoy your art journal, and especially reading your notes. It takes me back home.
Thank you, Rachel. Those hoodies are a Northwest tradition! The perfect layer, aren’t they?
Thank you, Leslie! With all the color of the leaves gone, it amazes me how much purple and gold are in the rocks and mountains.
Susan, we don’t have any sunshine in our house for about six weeks. Some people do if the sun peeks through the mountains and they are in just the right place. It isn’t dark, but like a very heavy cloudy day. We fondly call it “dim”. And the dimness is from about ten in the morning until three in the afternoon. Airplane tickets are a great solution!
Oh, thank you, Sylvia! So nice to think of you on the other side of the world reading this. Your words are so encouraging.
you bet!
Beautifully captured the subtle earth hues of this time of year. Such a melancholy time, the creatures,that stay behind are our faithful friends to tough out the long winter. Thank you. 🙂