After walking a quarter mile from our house, Marilyn and I arrived back at the site of my Four Seasons series. We set down our bags for a relaxing morning of art and nature, and a chatty mockingbird welcomed us with a rapid succession of musical phrases.
After unfolding our chairs, I pulled out the final piece in the quartet. I’d begun the drawing yesterday, leaving it unfinished after the heat drove us back indoors. Today feels different: the shadows are longer, the foggy morning has left dew on the grasses, and a new crispness hangs in the air. Autumn is near, and more importantly, harvest is fast approaching.
Across the field, the closest vineyard has been plowed over and the vineâ€™s skeletal remains have been bulldozed into a burn pile. With the rainy season only two months off, I imagine this pile of woody vines will soon be reduced to smoke and ash.
Looking up to catch the sun dancing across rustling leaves, I blinked twice to realize only three pears were now hanging from the top of the tree! Apparently overnight, someone had picked the pears as far up as they could reach. I wouldnâ€™t have thought the fruit would be ripe yet but someone else must know better. Good thing I’d started the drawing yesterday when the tree was full of fruit since the point of the series is to show all four seasons.
The mockingbird that had kept us company, flew across the field and disappeared into a thicket of bushes. With the last of the Four Seasons paintings now complete, I began to pack up my supplies. Iâ€™m going to miss painting this place, itâ€™s beginning to feel a lot like home.