At the foot of my country driveway I can see a massive oak tree I've long admired and wanted to draw. I call her Grandmother Oak. One recent summer morning, I toted my paints and pens down to the spot, sketching her first in my nature journal, and then trying to capture her with watercolors. The gift of a painting done on a summer morning, aside from the experience of painting, is that you get to carry the memory of that time and place with you through the winter every time you look at your artwork.
