Eighteen or somethin’ years in the Gunks
When I originally moved up to the Gunks—almost twenty years ago, now—the very first thing I did, was fall off a cliff.
I couldn’t climb for a while after that, so the very next thing I did was this painting:
It is a painting of the Pebbles Boulder. It’s just a whatever watercolor I made, sitting on a rock with my dog and my crutches in a nice quiet spot on the carriage road.
Since I’m getting back into doing “whatever, landscapes” again, I paid close attention to this spot when I walked by, the other day. I noticed a few trees were missing, and of course there are way fewer leaves this time of year.
Oh, and now there’s an outhouse thing.
So it goes.