The Path
Would you care to go for a country walk with me?
Mist that rises up unseen, swathes the land in a pale green veil. Listen to the quiet stillness of muffled waiting, birdsong from afar. Inhale deeply of the moist verdure, damp earth and grass bent by the heavy dew. Early rays of sunshine warm the light. With faces turned sun ward, warmth kisses skin. The dawn of a new day. What could be more glorious?
Painting continues. At the moment it is slow progress. A bit here, a bit there, but now most of the rough block in is complete. Areas will be refined, color adjusted, little errors fixed. It draws me in. Once I start painting, the time slips by and when I look up, I am surprised to find that I have been painting for five hours.
While painting, I'm thinking about the path, where it leads, what do I hear there, what do I smell. And soon I'm walking that path, hearing the land around me, smelling the moist verdure. I'm there as truly as if I were physically walking the path.
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