Today I had a rare day off. And, serendipity granted me a lovely, sunny afternoon to sit outside on an old wool Army blanket south of my house and paint the scene before me. The sky was clear as a Robin's egg shell, spanning ultramarine to cerulean blue, and I delighted in watching a half dozen Eastern Bluebirds hunting in the Staghorn Sumac shrubs around my home. A gentle breeze made the dead aster stalks dance and nod, and I simply relaxed and took it all in.
This morning at just after 10 am, I stepped outside and was surprised to hear the trumpeting call of a hundred Sandhill Cranes flying high overhead. How remarkable that I could hear their wild voices as far as they were from me. I snapped these photos of the majestic birds on their migration, and offered up Palo Santo incense and a prayer for their safe travels south. A charmed day.
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| Sandhill Cranes form two loose V's. |
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