
It’s almost cold, leaves clatter in the wind, it’s the season of the witch.

It’s almost cold, leaves clatter in the wind, it’s the season of the witch.

This painting shows landscape design in the city, the pollarding of a formal grove of trees. Pollarding involves the removal of tree branches to improve the fullness and shape of new growth that will follow. It’s a labor-intensive, tedious practice centuries old.
Pollards in Sweden, watercolor, 9×12″, 2023. Copyrighted with all rights reserved by Jean Krueger
Ted’s on sabbatical and I’m with him in Sweden, Stockholm mainly, for now. I like it here, clean, civil and non-confrontational. We catch weekly pipe organ concerts, walk a lot, the foods quite flavorful and chocolate’s cheap. It’s seems to be a very cool society. But the climate’s cold…much too cold for me, it’s mid-April and still wearing 4 layers, hat, scarf and gloves.

Hearts are susceptible to forces of nature such as tornados. Perhaps they’ll be carried all the way to the stratasphere, eventually fly over China and get shot down! Or maybe they’ll land in your yard, a happier outcome. They’re totally friendly.

Ted and Jean slept here.
Nice place, I could stay another couple weeks but…
We check out tomorrow.

Florida. Here we are for the week while Ted works. It’s quite different than the the places I call home in the northeast mid and south west. Different flora and fauna, lots of water everywhere and not all that walkable. Skyscrapers ans doublewides dominate the cities. Mosquitos and seabirds are all over the grasslands and it always sunny and warm. Florida.

Victor Colorado has and annual Plein Air event. I painted there for over a week last summer. Victor is a gold mining town and has been since the 19th century. There’s mine pits and mine heads all over town, lots to paint.

We have a lot of stuff…too much. We have a storage unit to accommodate all the forgotten memories, boxes packed decades ago, abandoned projects and other extraneous ephemera of the ages. We go there seldom because none of it really matters any more. It’s just that it’s hard to let go so we pay over $1K a year to accommodate it all…it’s craziness and a folly.
Anyway. This painting is of the landscape that surrounds our storage unit. I sometimes go to the locker just to see the scenery. The facility is on a promontory that looks far to the east into Massachusetts, far to the west into the skies of New York. It’s value far exceeds the $1K+ we shell out annually to rent a storage locker.

We’re driving on a Saturday afternoon and it’s starting to snow. It’s winter in New York, scrub trees in the field mowed last fall are a silhouetted filigree against the leaden horizon. It’s not the sort of scene to leave the car to admire. The wind starts to gust.

In late winter we took a drive to the east of our city, Troy. Here the austerity of the hills frozen and neutral, the cold, cold sky draped with clouds pushing northeast, all of this struck me as a beauty specific to Upstate. This landscape is worthy of painting in every season, late winter being no exception.

Our storage unit is located in Clums Corners, a small farm community outside Troy, NY. Our unit has a sweeping view to the east. Late in the afternoon when the sun is flat, the colors of the sky and land saturate and you can see all the way to Massachusetts. The land is still undeveloped by tract housing and commercial pad sites, still used for farming as it has been for centuries. The place is haunted by early American history, an unsung national treasure.

The setting for this painting is of the Sonoran Desert in Arizona. The time of year is winter. I hike a lot when I’m here and was surprised when I saw the Ocatillo I’ve featured in this painting. The cactus was all leafed out and bushy which I don’t remember happening at this elevation til 4-6 weeks later in the growing season. Nonetheless, I admire this species and have painted it before. I’ve included a painting I posted a few years ago to illustrate how intricate and downright lovely it is when its leaves emerge. Hope you like it.

In the desert when the sun has just vanished below the mountains the light shifts in ways revealing colors not seen at any other time. This amazes me. Fact is, color changes all day long and through the night. Our color perceptions are defined by time and space. Yeah, really…..


This painting is of a wondrous scene I encountered while hiking. I was taken by the arabesque forms of cactus and earth. I’ve included a shot the initial layout of of the painting which I used as a guide for the painting’s progression. I’m pleased with this painting and I hope you’ll enjoy it, too.


I’m hiking as much as I can while I spend a few weeks of winter in Arizona. Each hike I determine to see at least one wondrous sight. Sometimes I see the rare desert pool of water, sometimes I see a herd of deer, perhaps a lizard or an early blooming of cactus. Most frequently my wondrous sight is the composition of the desert landscape all by itself as its many elements arrange themselves into intricate layers with lines and swirls of light and color. This painting is of a wondrous sight I witnessed while hiking at the end of a day.

While in Arizona I try to hike every day. The temperature is still below 70 degrees F. during the day, perfect for walking. I walk in one of the Maricopa County Regional Parks, a wild and varied landscape with lots of rocks, animals and plants. I’m always looking for my next painting when I’m there.

Autumn is upon Valley Forge. The stone barn shown here was built and added to in the 19th c. It has the remnants of a Palladian window in the wall below the ridge, dating it to the Federalist era of architecture.

CR 119 Looking Northeast, $1110USD, Casein, 16×20″, 2021.
https://www.dailypaintworks.com/buy/auction/1219127
Cold front meets warm front. Looks like rain.

Summer’s are rich and earthy in Wisconsin. Corn and potatoes grow everywhere.In their midst, wind turbines spin in unison when the night breezes pick up at sunset.