Summer, and songs, of green

"Green Leaves, Green Grass...of Home, 9 x 12 watercolor, 140 lb cold press paper

Green everywhere. Driving the back roads on today's beautiful summer day, that's what you notice. Lush, alive, blooming, rain soaked.

Far different that our neighbors in drought-stricken western Oklahoma and West Texas, where the dominant color is brown. Life and death.

Thoughts of life's beauty  combine with pondering death, so close to home and friend brought two songs to mind, about summer and home and mortality.

"The Green Leaves of Summer," and the "Green Grass of Summer...."

"The green leaves of summer are calling me home."

"It's good to touch the green, green grass of home."

Thus today's quick watercolor painting.

Summer Dreaming

"Summer Dreams," 5 x 7 watercolor, 300 lb. d'Arches cold press paper

Winter weather can be beautiful, but the cold gets tiring. That's when I start dreaming of lazy summer days, with lots of green, blue skies and feathery clouds, where you're not cooped up inside.

So that's the story behind today's little painting, reverting to watercolor, with memories of being outside in rural life in Oklahoma and Iowa. Composition from a friend's photograph.

Summer dreams and valentines

"Talking All Morning," 8 x 10 140 lb d'Arches rough press paper

Cooped up.... 

Pandemic one. Quarantine two. Bitter winter storm, three. I don't want to know what four is.

So, thoughts of the good old summer time--warm sunny days, green grass, lush leaves, lazy river, good friends outdoors.

Today's little painting is a "study" because I'm trying something different, something to learn, to push myself, because I feel in a rut.

This is inspired by a little black and white photo, "Talking all morning," taken alongside a river in Ireland by poet David Whyte, that I found in his book "Essentials," given to me for Valentine's Day by Susan. I won't show you the photo, and I'm not trying to duplicate it. It's pretty rough and I'm not exactly happy with this, but enough to share.  If the next one is better, I'll post it.

I saw it and my imagination started adding color. Remember wanting to talk all morning with someone, pre social media, when everything just "clicks," one thought leading to another, no time-table, only the gentle rush of a river, grassy slopes, maybe a picnic lunch?

The green leaves of summer in a season of death

"The Green Leaves of Summer," 8 x 10 140 lb. cold press paper

Summer is only a month away, by the calendar, but in this spring season of pandemic pandemonium, it seems closer, as the days lengthen, the air gets warmer, and especially as the world turns treen.
A time of planting, of reaping, of loving, of living...something we yearn more for everyday....hope, home, sanity amid the gloom, and the virus of insanity and anger and  hatred and craziness that has mutated from the biologic virus...and just as deadly to the human fabric of spirit and civilization.
Yes, I'm reminded of the need for color as an antidote to all of this, and especially in this spring, as the trees have filled out, the wheat ripening, the lawns turned lush, of a certain song.
"The Green Leaves of Summer" was the theme song for the old move The Alamo, but it catches the spirit of being alive in a season of death:
"The green leaves of Summer are callin' me home.
'Twas so good to be young then, in a season of plenty,..."
So today's watercolor.

Summer showers, Oklahoma watercolor

Summer showers, Oklahoma, watercolor, 11 by 14, 300 lb. d'ArchesAdd caption

Okies  yearn for rain these hot, muggy days.
Vegetation runs riot, takes over, as the years pass. My small Oklahoma summer painting inspired this larger vision, yearning for cool showers on weathering metaphorical structures.
"Paint what you feel"-- I yearn for rain, any rain.

Day 18 of WorldWatercolorMonth daily challenge.

Palette--Aureolin Yellow, real green, Prussian blue, Cobal blue, Quin and many siennas and umbers

Humidity hugging you and Distant thunder

Distant Thunder, 9 by 12 watercolor, 140# Fabriano Artistico

Summer on the southern Great Plains doesn't look at calendars. 
Today the humidity and temperature  soared, almost sticky, certainly sweaty, weather with bright sunshine. And in the afternoon, the clouds started building, and afar off you could hear the rumbling of thunder as the horizons turned hazy, and gray blotched the blue skies.
You  feel the humidity hugging you, the sense of summer sourrounding you closely. Watercolor is akin to that moisture. It leads to trying to paint that feeling of distant thunder, of dripping atmosphere.

Oklahoma heat

Oklahoma Heat, watercolor, 7 by 7, 300# d'Arches

I drove south yesterday on the backroads as much as possible, starting at Newcastle, Blanchard, Dibble, Washington, looking for something to photograph. Not much at midday, just lots of hay bales, metal buildings, and houses on the edges of suburbia to Norman, Moore, OKC...I tried to come up with a new word, combining suburban and rural, but Rururbia and Subural just didn't work. It's out there someplace, in between.
Where it was however was 103 degrees under a bright sun. Not a lot of traffic, and I suspect most people were trying to stay indoors. Much of the color is gone from the landscape, except for the trees and greenery along the creek bottoms. I saw lots of cattle and horses, little more than shadows actually, sweltering away, trying to beat the heat in the shade of whatever trees were available. 
Oklahoma heat.

After the rain...A day to watch clouds

It's a day to watch clouds. We woke to steady rain, and then intermittent rain. By noon, the skies dried up and the ragged clouds began moving south. Soon the mugginess was pushed out by a cool front, and patches of clear sky and sunshine. Then a north breeze began marching more clouds in steady processions across the skies, like armadas of invading ships. Infinite shapes  and colors and contrasts. Quite a show. The sights and sounds of summer.

Barn, again

The Years Go By, 11 by 14, 300 pound d'Arches paper

This was my fourth try of the old barn I photographed last summer in eastern Oklahoma County. Finally switched to good paper, and that makes a difference...and I learned more about color.
Here's the inspiration:

Summer feasting

Susan's roasted salmon with shallot grapefruit sauce, farmer's market fresh tomatoes, cukes, green beans and new potatoes, with fresh basil in the sauce from my herb garden. Two nights ago. Now I'm starving.