
Late in the day, western light, the leaves will plummet to earth in 48 hous.

Late in the day, western light, the leaves will plummet to earth in 48 hous.

Looking north in the late afternoon sun the fence posts march into the autumn pasture bleached by summer sun now departed. This is painted using three colors, alizarin crimson , yellow ochre and ultramarine. These pigments are then mixed to create the other colors of the painting. John Singer Sargent, American painter, used this color pallet to great effect.

Stretch feels soooo good. Meow.

Unspoiled by fame. Meow. Looks a lot like Daily Cat 37.

This little sketch is painted while looking west from our front porch. The spruce trees and low junipers are backlit by filtered sun through tall ponderosa pines.

Cats must be tidy. Lick. Meow.

Our cabin is backstopped by the foothills of the Sangre de Cristo mountain range. I have to look up at a really steep angle to see the sky. When I look straight out from the front porch all I see in ascending earth covered with trees and brush….pretty nice.

Plein Aire quick draw, one hour sketch.
https://www.dailypaintworks.com/fineart/jean-krueger/plein-aire-zac/763810

Looking south, the broadside of barns, bright sun flushes the knolls and ruts, the Sunday afternoon slips by.

Looking southeast, the barns, the fences, the hills and mountains beyond glow in the mid morning sun. The horses are out to pasture.

Looking north in the late afternoon sun the fence posts march into the autumn pasture bleached by summer sun now departed.

The oaks are starting to change colors here in the Colorado montane. The colors will be in the yellow/brown range this year due to the conditions that prevailed around here last summer. The leaves will fall by November and re-emerge next May, one of life’s comforting certainties.

Living life 6″ above the floor. Meow.

Chow down. Meow.

This variety of rose grows in the woods where we live. They bloom in July in the montane and when they’ve ripend they produce a crimson hip, plump and shiney.

This is the view out our western window…sorta.

Clean cat. Meow.

Just three trees in the late afternoon sun, washed and warmed by the horizontal light.

There’s and old, old apple tree at the Comanche Venable trailhead in Colorado. No one tends it now but the browsing deer. It’s grown scraggely and wide as the years pass. In spring its whitepink blooms billow in the montane sun. By September the fruit finally ripens to a sour, wormy greenred, hard and plump, abundant til they freeze and fall in the darkening days of autumn. The tree is a touchstone within my Rocky Mountain life.

Meow. Doze.