A walk in the woods … stepping out the back porch door to smell the new spring air. The path to the lake is wiggly packed down by our feet. The bridge over the creek makes it easy to look at the wild flowers loving the wet ground. I step off the bridge to the path and start toward the pine grove. The ground is soft with needles, they don't feel like needles any more as they lay on their sides creating a rug of pine.

Up the hill to the little wooden closet we keep supplies in, along the way thinking about the blue berries that will pick in the late summer and down the hill to the lakes edge stacks of rocks and the dock floats softly in the cool water.

 Looking to see if the deer ate any of the perennials planted last fall.

Missing the cool air as the boat turns around the corner into the cove, Hot dog Island in full view,

Dear Dad, I remember the days of picnics, and big loaves of bread and fresh tomatoes

Buffalo check wool blankets, taking off my boots and walking on the pine needed rug the pine trees hand laid for us. Collecting sticks to make a crafts, gathering dried wild weeds, for mom to fill a stone ware crock for the hearths décor.

Cutting down a tree and making log stools and a table to play with in the yard at home.

 Painting rocks with flowers for gifts. Never brushing my hair, until it was a bird’s nest.

Spring brought new life, in its simplest form, newly emerging flowers, plants, leaves and bugs.

The red breasted robin a migratory song bird so well known in the north east.

  Returning to the yard, pulling worms out of the garden after spring rain

Making nests in the grapevine wreath on my door.

  So confident and full of wisdom

I feel compelled to paint Avian Art relating to birds in some way, there freedom

The Characteristics of some bird proud like the black crow a bird I would love to paint in the fall.

 The shapes of their little bodies create a whimsical pattern in my mind full of color