As Dry Creek Road winds through the valley, high points along the way provide remarkable views. Riding a bike allows me to stop in the moment to enjoy the scenery, even in places unavailable to cars. This is one of those spots, where I stopped roadside at a vineyard slope, marveling at the view. As an added bonus, I was able to use the terrace as a seat while painting.

Last weekend, my sketch friend Phil and I rode our bikes through the Dry Creek Valley, looking for places to sketch. I had driven this road a hundred times by car but never noticed this old barn until I started cycling around the area. We parked our bikes and sat on a stone wall across the street, which provided a good vantage point. The occasional car whizzed past, interrupting the otherwise still morning. Today we were lucky, the weather was unseasonably warm but I could smell smoke from a burn pile down the road that reminded me winter is not far off. After about an hour of sketching, we packed up our supplies and biked further into the Dry Creek valley looking for more sketching opportunities.

Last weekend I loaded my backpack with art supplies and hiked into the countryside near my house. It had rained earlier in the day, but as soon as I saw a break in the clouds, I gathered my art supplies and headed out to sketch.

The golden grasses covering the hills during the dryer months are turning green with the help of recent rains. Reaching the top of a hill, I was confronted by the bright colors of Jordan Winery’s vineyard and a red-roofed shed guarding its gate. What a great view I thought, and parked myself on my folding stool to paint.

This northeast edge of Healdsburg used to be a horse ranch until about 15 years ago, when it was replaced by the homes in my neighborhood. Some reminders of the ranch still remain, like the old wooden fence posts climbing this hill. Although people have encroached upon this once wild land, the area is still home to raptors, deer, mountain lions, bobcats, coyotes, and migratory birds. Blue herons and egrets, much to my dismay, like to eat goldfish out of our backyard pond. But it’s a small price to pay for living near open land. Some of the wildlife can be dangerous, like rattle snakes and mountain lions, and many of my neighbors have reported sightings. Luckily, I’ve never run into any problems but still keep a sharp eye whenever I’m out in the field. At night as I’m drifting off to sleep, I often hear the howls of coyotes celebrating a new kill and the feast that follows.

The sky above me darkened and small drops of rain splashed on my page. Looking toward the west, I could see that another storm approached, so I packed up my gear and headed home. Under the next day’s sunny skies I returned to the same spot to add the finishing touches.

Early this November, the colors of autumn stormed into Sonoma County, lighting up the countryside in vivid gold, orange, and maroon. Entire vineyards washed hillsides in color almost overnight, making even the most ordinary views extraordinary.

To take advantage of the beauty, I headed out to sketch under partly cloudy skies, donning a hat and sweatshirt to keep warm. I wanted to paint a nearby pear tree that I discovered hidden behind some bushes while walking the dogs.

The pear tree’s trunk is split from top to bottom, as if struck by lightning, and is now withering from age and decay. Its canopy contains few leaves, but surprisingly, produces an abundance of tiny pears. At its base, a small blackberry bush wraps the tree’s trunk in thorns.

At this time of year, the weather can be moody, changing from hour to hour and making the need for coats and gloves unpredictable. Since it was mostly sunny when I left the house, I thought that my hat and sweatshirt would be sufficient, but the weather turned cold and cloudy as I sketched, and by the time I finished painting, I was shivering. Sprinkles of rain dotted my page, and I covered the painting until the weather passed. Then I packed up my gear and headed home for some hot tea and a warm fire.

 

Some of the worlds best Zinfandels are grown and produced just west of Healdsburg in the Dry Creek Valley. The area began attracting settlers around the time of the California Gold Rush in 1849 and is now home to more than 60 wineries and 150 grape growers. Measuring only two miles wide, ridge to ridge, and sixteen miles long, the Valley is one of the smallest enclosed viticultural areas in the United States. Its well drained soil and diverse terroir make it ideal for growing many types of grapes, most notably, Cabernet Sauvignon and Zinfandel. With the help of coastal fog and its proximity to the San Francisco Bay, the Valley has a climate similar to the Bordeaux region of France and produces deliciously bold and fruity Zinfandels.

Dry Creek Road begins at Healdsburg Avenue and works its way west into the Valley. A welcoming sign designates the gateway to the area with dozens of arrows pointing to wineries in so many different directions it reminds me of the Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz. It’s now late October and vineyards covering the rolling hills are showing the lateness of the season with their red, gold, and orange colors. Harvest is coming to a close.