Hairy Woodpecker / oil on black canvas / 5x7 / $68 includes shipping
On Saturday, when the forecast for that day and Sunday showed temps in the low 80s, I decided to put my winter clothes away and get the summer clothes out. Yesterday afternoon, I had to pull some of those jeans and long-sleeved shirts, and so I am dressed right, but the chill has made its way to my bones. Somehow, it often seems colder after a couple days of summery heat.
The dogs are all sleeping, and have been sleeping very deeply since our quite damp - well, OK, wet - walk this morning. I think there must be something in their little dog brains that tells them to sleep sleep sleep when the barometric pressure falls. I would wager that's because, centuries and eons ago, there was little chance of catching anything to eat when it was raining - and so, sleep was what made sense.
I made this painting while I was in Arizona, where summer came in February. I had put it in a box and forgotten about it, but found it over the weekend. It makes me think of the orange and red landscape of Arizona, the huge turquoise sky, and the weeks I spent out there with my dad and Paula, and all my Arizona friends. It feels like a long, long time ago.
Like Rain It Sounded Till It Curved
Like Rain it sounded till it curved
And then I knew 'twas Wind -
It walked as wet as any Wave
But swept as dry as sand -
When it had pushed itself away
To Some remotest Plain
A coming as of Hosts was heard
It filled the Wells, it pleased the Pools
It warbled in the Road -
It pulled the spigot from the Hills
And let the Floods abroad -
It loosened acres, lifted seas
The sites of Centres stirred
Then like Elijah rode away
Upon a Wheel of Cloud
- Emily Dickinson