A favorite activity as of late: Sitting on a rock in the middle of the river and sketching the nearby foliage. As one does.
There's the cold and glittery water rushing around my wader-clad legs, the occasional flip-and-splash of a hungry trout, and a roaring current swiftly carrying thousands of tiny white petals down stream to who knows where.
Then with the slightest upward tilt of the gaze, everything is still. The trees arching over the water are so quiet, so subtle in contrast to the wild water at their roots. Just happily observing, unphased by the chaos. Every now and then fluttering their leaves. The whole scene - it's the most complementary thing I know at the moment.
But aside from the therapeutic and meditative nature of it all, these little paintings of isolated branches and flowers are starting to fill up my sketchbooks, and I'm excited to see what comes of it.