A day away...

Corona, protests, election politics,

and a job listening to heartache 10 hours a day...

This combination led me to take a day off.

I drove past CU,

above Boulder up Baseline Rd on Flagstaff Mountain,

to a picnic spot overlooking Gross Lake Reservoir.

On the distant horizon Mount Brainard showed off a few patches of ice and snow.

I set up my pochade box and canvas chair

squeezed some oil paint on a glass palette

then placed a small wood panel on the easel.

I had prepared it from a failed painting.

Covered the past with gesso.

I dipped worn brushes in a blend of turpentine and linseed oil.

Adjusted my hat to block out the sun

Took a swallow of store bought spring water.

Then... I just ...breathed.

The next few hours were just for me;

the bluebirds and magpies

and the chipmunk that was sure there must be some peanuts near by...

The wild flowers were what I had come in search of.

They did not disappoint.

Gaillardia, Red and Yellow Indian Paint Brush,

and a spread of White Alpine Yarrow,

mixed with some Yellow Asters and Alpine Sunflowers..

Pine cones on the ground and paddle boarders on the lake.

This Colorado-boy of sixty five was home.

The plein-aire effort was not much.

I took some snaps, and returned home that Saturday afternoon.

The next day was Sunday.

Julie and I watched an online sermon,

and shared communion bread and juice,

communing alone in this socially distant apocalyptic time.

" I want to take you for a drive." I told her, We retraced my trip.

It was so much better with my lifelong companion.

The flowers were brighter,

the breeze fresher.

Even the chipmunk seemed to approve.

We took a lot more pictures. Then returned home.

That night someone stole my car.

The car we drove up Flagstaff mountain.

It was recovered a few weeks later,

windows smashed,

floor board cluttered with the trash of empty lives.

I resent the trashing of my car,

but I also resented the trashing of a memory of our special summer day.

A few days passed and I set up my easel.

I took out an old canvas that had borne another failed effort,

covered it with a wash of Alizarian Red, Cadmium Yellow and Burnt Sienna.

I put the repurposed canvas on the easel,

listened to some old Rod McKuen poetry

and sang along with the sappy music,

and painted the day.

June 28,2020.

The day I got away.