Deer Stalking

We live in a very rural area and so seeing whitetail deer is a common occurrence, but this past fall we seemed to see more and more and closer to our property. In fact, the huge acorn crop of the big white oaks on our land attracted some regular visitors for several weeks.

The last week or so I have been out in the late afternoon looking for them in the woods across the road. We are surrounded by woods and fields and I have learned where they can be found around dusk. The other day I was lucky enough to be in just the right spot as four does came out of the woods.

Twilight Wood
12 x 12
Available at Blackheath Gallery, London
Sold

It's been a bittersweet pleasure this past week, working on the pieces to send to London. It's an exciting task but the loss of Sophie has tempered it. But, six pieces are almost done, which is a good thing since they must dry, be varnished, and dry again in time to ship on Thursday!

Autumn Pond

Autumn Pond
10 x 8
click to see larger image

One of the things I really love is the change of seasons. Fall, in particular, seems more drawn out here than in other places I have lived. The crisp halcyon days of indian summer have slipped way to the almost brittle melancholy of late autumn. The crunching sound of dry leaves underfoot follows me on every walk. The landscape has opened up again, bare trees revealing corners of woods that have been hidden from view all summer. Right before my eyes, the landscape is reinventing itself.

Cool Water

Cool Water
oil on birch panel, 8x6

When I was a little girl I was, like many little girls, horse crazy. I started riding when I was about six and within a year had convinced my parents I had to have my own horse. During the school year, I rode in the afternoon and on weekends and in the summer I spent a good deal of my time on horseback exploring the fields, pastures and woods in north Florida where I grew up. There was a large pond (or at least it seemed large to me) on the edge of a pasture at the barn where I boarded my horse. After a ride on hot summer afternoons, I would strip off my horse's tack (and my own shoes and socks) and ride bareback with just a halter and rope into the pond. As we moved out to the center of the pond where the water was deepest, I would float like a leaf off my horse's back, holding on to his mane and the halter rope. His legs would begin to churn beneath me and the cool water from the bottom of the pond would rise up and envelop me. It was the most perfect sense of freedom I have ever known.