Spring Snow at the Audubon

In Marshfield, there are two Massachusetts Audubon areas.   The one closest to me is the Daniel Webster Wildlife Sanctuary, a 475 acre parcel of grasslands, woodlands, and wetlands.  For birders, there are observation blinds overlooking a shallow wetland that attracts herons, egrets, and shorebirds, and -allegedly - muskrats and mink.   For landscape painters, there are many picturesque scenes, that can include distant, mid-range, and closer terrain.

Whenever I have painted at the Audubon, I usually set up right at the car, because even from this small unpaved lot, there are plenty of scenic vistas.   This is both for convenience and personal safety, although I have observed many women walking the trails alone.  You are in for a treat if you have never been there; the varied trails can be walked in less than an hour.   If you do venture out onto the trails, wear some water resistant boots because there are many water saturated dips in the trails. 

Audubon Tree at Secret Path

The painting to the left is from the junction of the Pond Loop and the Secret Trail, a south facing path.   The areas shaded by last year's tall swamp grass are the last to melt after the moderate snow squalls that blew through.   On the tree, the branches on the far side are bluer and almost transparent against the late winter sky.   The branches that are brightly lit on this side are dappled with the shade of other branches.     For the foreground grasses, I used a shabby old brush with sideways bristles, dragged it through my Naples yellow/Cad Red piles, then applied scumbled wisps of dry grass that aligned with the bright snowy areas. 

I'll pay a return visit to this one.   As I post this photo of the painting I realize that the shadow of the main tree is not dark enough across the far end of the path. 

The March sun has already melted the snow here at home.   This snowscape will go dormant for Spring and Summer with the other recent snowscapes.   I'll critique and revise in September with fresh eyes.

Wet Sand That Glows

They say that in order to be real, to be convincing,  paint what you know best.  First of all, who is "they" anyway?  Nevermind; we know who they are.

If there is one thing I know, it is "my" beach.   I am fortunate enough to be able to walk out my door and there across the road lies three miles of uninterrupted Atlantic shoreline.       I am addicted to my daily beach walk, the sound of the waves, the smell of the salty air and the feel of the cold east wind.  The length of the walk may get impacted by the weather, but unless there is a full fledged Nor'easter in progress, I walk.

Wet Sand Glowing Stage 1

Until I lived here, I never realized how volatile the coast can be.  One day the water is calmly lapping a sandy shore.  The next day a raging surf has scrubbed away five vertical feet of sand, leaving a rocky, lunar like wasteland.   And although tranquility can quickly be whipped up into a stormy surf, the modulating force of the tide provides a cyclic effect that gradually stirs things up or helps things wind down.   The variation is amazing, and over time it has provided many different scenes for me to capture on canvas.

The beach scene that I think is the prettiest occurs at extra low tide when the beach is good and sandy.   The wide strip of wet sand reflects all the seaside subjects, a dawn or dusky sky, dramatic purple clouds, and beach houses all in a row.   In developing my reflections, I roughed in a mirror image of the subject above.  Working vertically, I pulled the dark reflections down over the sand with a big fat house painting brush.   I then cleaned my big brush and pulled the cloud reflections down all the way to the bottom of the canvas.  

Wet Sand Glowing Stage 2

The sand closest to me should be a lot darker than shown in Stage 1.    I worked the ripply sand patterns and drier sand with a mixture of burnt umber, burnt sienna and cobalt blue.  With my palette knife I scraped over the closest sand with this same mixture, leaving behind random bumps and shadows, giving the illusion of seaweed and rocks encroaching on the glowing sand.   

Finally, I sketched in my action figures - three fiesty seagulls, squabbling over a quohog that they can't pick up to crack open anyway.

Overall, I like the concept of this painting.   I'm thinking I may paint it again ... afterall, I made the mistakes once and maybe I'll avoid them the second time around.