Today I sketched again a willow tree in the Finger lakes where some herons have their nest. One arrived with a great deal of raucousness and, from behind the leaves, I could hear its modulated cawing: it sounded as if it were talking angrily. I was trying to catch a bit more of the lake - the reeds and the far bank - than I had before. I painted the reflection of the shadowed trees in ultramarine and yellow ochre, but it's probably blacker in the hollows. |