Autumn Paintings

I set my easel up at Longfellow Gardens, near the Longfellow House, and near Minnehaha Falls, and turned away from the still blooming garden beds to face the open land along Minnehaha Creek. The water is low but flowing, a good thing after a drought-plagued summer. I was in this very location a few days ago. I set up my pochade tripod in the same marks I left a week ago. And set about repairing a painting on I somehow smeared while stowing the wet panel away. Only a few days had passed but it was obvious how many leaves had fallen, and how many more had turned color. This mad flash of color is so brief. It is almost gone before you can gather your paints, and you are left staring at bare branches. But there were still bees at the black cohosh and wood ducks swimming silently - off duty for the season - and sparrows in the grasses, and the sun was warm. I repaired my painting and pivoted to the trees along the open field - greens and yellow greens and yellow, yellow orange and red orange and a deep russet of the oaks. And so, fast painting while the sun crept across the sky. When the shadows got longer, it was time to say good bye to a day that won’t ever repeat.