I woke up really early one morning, in time to see the dark sky slowly brighten in the east as the sun peeped over the horizon and began its slow climb. The house was quiet as I slipped out onto the deck, down the steps, and through the dunes to the beach. I walked for awhile, letting the waves wash over my bare feet, and picked up a few shells that caught my eye.
|5-1/2" x 8-1/2" Noodler's Lexington Gray ink, watercolor|
I sat down facing the ocean, with the dunes at my back, and tossed the shells onto the sand in front of me. Taking my sketchbook and a pen from my bag, I carefully drew each shell. Tracing the contours with my pen, focusing on the swirls and ridges of each piece, I was in my own little world, with the sound of the sea my constant companion.
The next day, on a rare trip to town, I stopped to draw this marsh scene (below.) There's a wooden walkway that crosses the water, and I walked about halfway across to find this view. I was so nervous about dropping my precious sketchbook in the water, though, that I quickly did just the barest hint of a sketch, then dashed off to the safety of dry land. The ink lines are so light and tentative that they're barely visible.
|5-1/2" x 8-1/2", Noodler's Lexington Gray ink, watercolor|
The brilliant yellow-green of the marsh grass glowed in the morning sunshine and a flock of egrets foraged for their breakfast off in the distance. That big blue sky, uninterrupted by clouds, held the promise of another perfect day at the beach.