Ninety in the shade

A suggestion that I try to draw every day this coming week was enough to coax me into taking the bike route home from a banking stop in Mt Joy this morning, parking the Volvo in the grass along a certain obscure little road, and walking down into the woods to take another look at the spot I’d drawn on Monday. I'm working my way up to attempting a larger studio piece, so I need to understand the scene more thoroughly. I framed a view that I liked, moved a flat rock out of the weeds to sit on, and opened my sketchbook and pencil tin. Concentrated on simplifying the confusion of bridge, trees, stream, and undergrowth with glimpses of open field and distant farm house through the tangle.

There’d been a hot breeze up on the road, but in the tree sheltered depression where I sat the air wasn’t so much as stirring a leaf. It might have been a minute or so before perspiration was tracing streams down my face and dripping from my nose and chin, and the mosquitoes appeared in force. If I were accustomed to the heat and humidity of an equatorial jungle, it wouldn’t have seemed so awful. But I’m not, and it did. Nonetheless, I was there and didn’t want to be a complete wimp, so I did a quick study as I slapped mosquitoes and flicked sweat away from the open page. Hastily stuffed everything back into my shoulder bag, scrambled back up to where I’d pulled the car into the shade, started the car and cranked the air conditioning, and retreated to the house.

Now as I spend the remainder of the day bouncing back and forth rendering digital models in AutoCAD for an upcoming product introduction, doing house and yard work, and writing this update, I remember that just over a week ago, I had my first tantalizing hint of fall weather. Today I'm thinking that a few months of going out there and trying to keep my hands warm enough to finish a sketch can't come too soon. I'll try not to complain about the cold.

8" x 11-1/2", Derwent Inktense pencils