There was not a cloud in the sky when I sat next to a patch of evening primrose one afternoon. With a piece of paper in hand and watercolors by my side, I began a plein air painting session.
Clumps of crescent-shaped seed pods embellished a dried plant that stood a few feet tall. The plant lined an open trail and called for a closer examination.
The ice over the pond was thinning, betraying the dark water beneath its increasingly transparent surface. A trio of beavers was there.
