Butterflies Paradise, 6x8, oilOh boy, there is some really amazing color and texture going on out there this time of year. Late summer weeds and wildflowers have burst into bloom, grasses are going to seed, shrubs and bushes are bursting with berries and trees with nuts. The sun, though at a lower angle in the sky, is still bright and casts a warm, mellow shawl over the landscape. I find the dunes to be particularly beautiful at this time of year, sporting reddish and purple grasses. The last painting was a spot that had weeds and flowers in abundant profusion and attracted butterflies by the dozen what an awesome sight!!
INDIAN SUMMER
Emily Dickinson [1830-1886]
These are the days when birds come back,
A very few, a bird or two,
To take a backward look.
These are the days when skies put on
The old, old sophistries of June,
-A blue and gold mistake.
Oh, fraud that cannot cheat the bee,
Almost thy plausibilityInduces my belief,
Till ranks of seeds their witness bear,
And softly through the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf!
Oh, sacrament of summer days,
Oh, last communion in the haze,
Permit a child to join,
Thy sacred emblems to partake,
Thy consecrated bread to break,
Taste thine immortal wine!


