Turning at an angle on the beach, the same tranquil morning, a different line of wooden posts and the waves washing rhythmically on the shore. I was getting chilly, but was busy painting and only noticed when I had finished how cold I had become!
Another chance to paint with my feet in the sand. It shouldn’t matter what your feet are in while you paint, but there is something so comfortable and relaxing about having your feet in sand. I would back up to see the painting from further away and then go back to my position at the easel. My feet would dig back into the sand and I picked up my tool of brush or knife again.
I stood on the porch of a house on the lake and painted the view. The red stone on the edge of the grass was where the front door of the house used to be. They had to move the house back and now the red stone is where the bluff starts.