Painting No. 27 Early morning View from Molly Island, Smoke Lake
I rose early and quietly stole away in the canoe to Smoke Lake.
The mornings have been distinctly cooler. The cold air meeting the warmer waters have infused the landscape with a membrane of heavy mist – it could have been a morning 1,000 years ago. With the shoreline barely visible, the large trees reached out like ancient primordial beings, hushing all into silence.
Precious little is stirring in this cold, early hour. However, this state is transient and will soon give way to the burning rays of the sun. I luxuriate, knowing my own insignificance in this great natural theatre.
As I reached Smoke Lake, the heat of the morning sun was at work; like heartfelt guests, the swatches of mist bade their farewells as they disappeared into the firmament. I continued in the bright morning light down the lake until I reached Molly Island. Looking southeast, I completed a painting of the crystal bright colours bursting forth from the horizon.
The morning reminded me of summer’s passing with the inevitable signs of autumn to come. Painting so much outside, I have often caught these signs and felt a slight loss. Yet the warmth of the sun would always manage to lift my spirits again.