Picking up the brush

 The smoke lifted in our part of the world yesterday. We could see blue sky again and breathe in deeply without feeling like you were at a Bingo hall in the 90s. It was wonderful. It was like the whole world had awakened. The birds were singing joyfully. The plants were brighter and happier. Even the moose were moving more sprightly, as evidenced by all the fresh tracks on the main path that runs along the creek through the forest. 

It was such a beautiful day that none of us wanted to spend time in the house. We just wanted to stay outside.

The feeling of optimism was so pronounced that I finally got that urge to pick up a paint brush for the first time in over five weeks. I don't have any of my regular painting supplies with me, but Corinne and Chris have a set of watercolours and some watercolour paper. It felt awkward, like trying to write in a foreign language. 

First, I played with a buffalo.

In the evening, I tried my first watercolour tree painting. 

Today, I may tackle a portrait. 

Northern Harrier Hawk

Mostly, yesterday was about exploring the forest, listening to birds and feeding the chickadees.
Black-capped Chickadee


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