I lose all track of time when painting by a spring, especially when the water is rushing by at my feet I stood on the small footbridge crossing this spring, wanting to keep an eye out for the copperhead I just saw dissappear into a crack between rocks. As the minutes rolled by, I forgot about him altogether, so mesmerized I was by the water. There is something so healing about a spring, so soothing to the soul. This spring is an amazing painting companion with it's magical sounds, and I think I'll be returning each time I'm in town. Painting number 5071 in 5071 days. It looks like I've got a bit of catching up to do on my blog, a few entries didn't post again. If only every place had a good cell connection in the Midwest.
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