The two pines on the left had to be reminded that they won’t be left too long looking like dead trees.  Once their branches are dry, they will get their scented tufts back.  Always proud of their lofty appearance, they seemed to begrudge the time I was spending, giving the leaning pine its coiffure.  I could just feel it!  You’ve no idea what I have to contend with in this studio.

Have you ever tried consoling a couple of pine trees?  Let me tell you, it’s no easy matter.

The deciduous tree on the right is truly a very patient, selfless  species.  He tried to get the pines to look on the bright side.

 “Take heart, noble pines!” he called out.  “At least you have the warmth of the sun on your trunks.”

The pines were rude, and didn’t even acknowledge his kind words, but he paid no heed to them, as he had something more to say:

“I can’t wait to get my ‘hair’ done.  When my ‘wig’ is put on, it will make the loveliest tracery of shadows on the path.  Just you wait and see.”

The pathway has been nattering away that it was sick and tired of going straight!  It was bored, and wanted to curve to the left . . . so I finally gave in.

At least the tabletop mountains in the background are content, as they’ve  been clothed in their greenery of aspen, tamarack and spruce.

Next week I’ll give the sticks, the “hope-to-be-trees,” their branches and leaves.  The old pine will have to be patient, and reign in its ego.  The wash is all it’s getting until its neighbours look a little more respectable.

The mileage sign is yattering, too, but I’m not paying the least bit of attention.  If I’ve told it once I’ve told it a hundred times . . .it’s not going to be put in place until the area is treed.  By the time the tourists have hobbled this far, they’re probably pretty fagged out, but it’s not my fault.  Rome wasn’t built in a day, and this painting won’t be either.   They’ll just have to keep guessing how far it is to the boat, that’s all.

The ancient sentinel on the right has moved a few times since the last blog. 

The height of what will be rocks in the left foreground, where the bake apples are blooming, has been shortened.  Such modifications are dictated as we eat lunch on the sofa, with the fledgling painting propped up across the room so I can study its composition.  

Once I get the scraggy top of the old pine washed in, then I’ll start adding other trees and shrubs on both sides of the path.

Watch for the wooden marker, telling how far along we are on this 3-kilometre trek to the boat.  We’ve got to keep trudging along! 

The sky has been washed in, letting the weathered spruce, guarding the path, come into view, as well as the beautiful form of the ancient sentinel on the right.

In the foreground, I’m sketching the much loved BAKE APPLES that appear in spring along the byways of Newfoundland. Our B&B hostess served us her own deee-licious bake apple preserves!  Each plant bears one raspberry-like fruit, orange in colour.  It takes patience and a lot of bending over to pick enough fruit for a batch of jam.

A 45-minute walk along this path brings you to the boat which tours the spectacular Western Brook Pond fjords.  Or at least that’s the time set out in the travel brochures.  Lloyd put his back out handling our luggage the night before, so we were hobbling along at a snail’s pace, worrying that the boat would leave without us.

I’m looking forward to getting the oils out tomorrow, and doing an initial light wash to get the painting underway.

The new year opens with its fresh page of opportunity, perhaps many pages, perhaps 365!

In the studio, I’ll be taking you down a gravel path in Newfoundland.  Watch for the sketch!  It’s a 3-kilometre trek, so put on a good pair of walking shoes, and come along!