More Sketches from Acadia National Park

Back home now (I got home a week ago), I am still putting finishing touches on some paintings, as well as getting back into the routine of life at home. Actually, I should say that I am working on developing a new routine for life at home. During my time away I had lots of time to think and evaluate how I do things on a daily basis, and I realized that, much as I have valued quiet time and solitude, I haven't done a great job of consistently living with a peaceful rhythm to my days. Somehow the demands of life in an overly connected world, along with the alluring draw of the internet have resulted in a feeling of being scattered and constantly available and pulled in several directions at once. While at Acadia National Park, I had no cell signal (what a blessing!) and, as a result, I found that I was more focused in a relaxed way that caused me to be much more "present" with myself and my environment. So now I am working on incorporating some of the lessons I learned, so that I can live with a peaceful rhythm even as I am connected and involved with the world and people around me. I haven't gotten it all figured out yet, but I am hoping to make progress.

Here are some of my sketches from my time away. I have still more that I will post sketches in another few days. I've also posted some of my finished watercolors on my website (Melissa Fischer's Art ). If you click on the images, you'll be able to see them large enough to read my notes.)

Gannets diving

Maine coast rocks

Otter sketches

Snowy Owl

Watercolor 7.5x5

I was out cross-country skiing on a golf course today and kept hoping to see a Snowy Owl, but if there were any in the area, they stayed well camouflaged. This has been one of those winters when there are many sightings in our general area, but most seemed to have been when I was in Florida, so I missed them.


Snowy Owls are the heaviest owls found in North America. They spend summers north of the Arctic Circle, where they hunt lemmings, small rodents, and other prey. Often hunting during the day, unlike most other owls, when they migrate to the northern United States during some winters, they can frequently be spotted on open fields and airport runways. Young have dark bars, with males becoming whiter as they mature, while females keep some dark bars throughout their life.

Thank you to my friend Carol Hickey for the use of her beautiful photo for a reference for this painting.

PJ-- July 2001 to May 28, 2013

PJ was my friend Sarah's dog, and I got to know her well while I was pet-sitting when Sarah would travel. Later on PJ spent a fair amount of time with me and always fit in as a sweet, happy member of our family.

It was a kind of grace to be PJ's friend. She came to Sarah as an unsocialized, semi-feral puppy, and Sarah slowly, patiently taught her to trust. Over time PJ became more and more social and ended up loving people, but when I first met her as a two-year-old, she was still quite reserved. I immediately felt an affinity for this shy, camouflaged sprite, who so loved being quietly outside by herself, and I always felt it was a gift and a privilege to have her trust. Sarah often said that PJ had the same personality as I, but in a dog's body. Maybe that is why PJ and I connected right away; I felt as though we understood each other without words.

PJ was an observer. She spent much of her days watching and waiting in eager expectation. Hour by hour contentedly watching a tree in which she knew a squirrel sometimes foraged. Waiting patiently for a woodchuck to come out of its hole. Watching and waiting while a squirrel walked within a few yards of her on the deck. Weather rarely deterred PJ, and she would frequently ask to stay outside when the other dogs came in.

Watching the Horse Chestnut tree on a rainy day

Watching the world with her, whether slowly meandering through the woods on leash, investigating every interesting scent, or roaming fields searching for something moving subtly under the grass, or sitting on the deck with her watching her watch a tree for hours, opened my eyes to much that I may otherwise have missed. During times when I might otherwise have been stressed, PJ often helped cultivate a peaceful spirit in me, attentive to easily-overlooked but fascinating aspects of the natural world around my home.

My shadow and PJ, enjoying a winter woods walk

 I miss the gentle tap on my elbow or soft poke behind my knee that were her quiet ways of saying, "Hi, I'm here with you." I would turn to see those bright eyes, that sweet expression or happy grin, and her wagging tail. I miss the thump, thump, thump of her tail on the floor whenever I'd look in her direction. I miss her uniquely beautiful ears that would twitch slightly in my direction to greet me, when she was "watching."

PJ, beloved scruffy girl, I miss your gentle spirit and quiet zest for life. I will watch and wait and remember all you taught me.

A young PJ, in pencil

watercolor sketch done in the field

How to Appreciate a Tree, by PJ

My Lawn is Not a Proper lawn

No chemical carpet here, but a tousled medley of grasses, wildflowers, and color. My sister echoed my thoughts, when she said it looks like a fairytale. Wandering through the grass and flowers barefoot inspired me to write this:
 

My lawn is not a proper lawn It has more other plants than grass. Some people call them weeds, I know But here I welcome them as friends. Dandelions, Buttercups, Speedwell, Violets dot the earth and add bright color. Clover grows rich and dark,  feels cool and soft beneath my toes. Ground Ivy spreads her purple robe under trees, throughout the shade; Blackseed Plantain and other “weeds” Are lush and green through summer’s heat. My lawn has life and shape and color Always changing, ever bright. I like it just the way it is And never want a proper lawn.

Sugarloaf Hike and Black Rat Snake

Yesterday Stephen and I hiked up Sugarloaf, a steeper hike than we remembered, but well worth it for the view. At the top I sketched the fascinating, signature stump that has been there for as long as we've been hiking there, Steve read, and we both enjoyed the sunshine, the Turkey Vultures swooping by, and the river views. (Click photos to view larger)

On our way back down, we saw a 3-4 foot long Black Rat Snake that had clearly just eaten a large and rather pointy meal. As we watched he (or maybe she) calmly slithered to a nearby tree, climbed the tree and disappeared down a hole in the tree.

You can see the bump where there was something pointy on whatever he ate

Mottled pattern of the Black Rat Snake

Heading up the tree

Almost at the hole in the trunk

You can see how high up the hole is

May Her Burrow Be Long and Warm and Dry...

It turns out the woodchuck is probably a female, so I guess she isn't "Charlie Brown" after all.

My little friend went home to what may be her forever home with a rehabber last night. The rehabber and I both think she has something neurological going on, plus she's way too habituated to people to be releasable, so Robin (the rehabber) will most likely be keeping her. Robin LOVES woodchucks and was so excited to get her from me. She already has seven woodchucks, two of which are long-term members of her family, because they are not releasable for various reasons. One of those is litterbox trained and roams around freely in her house! I can hardly wait to go visit and see them all!

Anyway, Robin took my little woodchuck last night, so hopefully she is settling in now and making herself at home. I really enjoyed having her here for a few days, but am not set up for long-term woodchuck hospitality, so am glad I now know someone whose door is always open to another woodchuck.

Here are some of my sketches from the woodchuck's time here (click on images for larger view).

 I wish my little friend well, and, whether her life includes chucking wood, or forecasting weather, or simply eating to her heart's content (no gardens, please), may her burrow always be long and warm and dry.

Storm King Mountain Hike

Warm sunshine, muted fall colors, rocks to scramble up, leaves to slip on (Oops, be careful!). Today was one of those perfect fall days when one has to be outdoors enjoying it. After church Stephen and I went across the river to Storm King Mountain and hiked a loop over Butter Hill and around Storm King, where we enjoyed gorgeous views up and down the river and of Breakneck Ridge, Sugarloaf Mountain, and Fishkill Ridge across the river.

I started a new, hiking size (4" x 6") watercolor journal, that I plan to fill with views from hikes in the Hudson Valley. This first entry is a sketch of the view from the trailhead parking lot after our hike. I didn't sketch while we were hiking, because we weren't sure how long the hike would take, and we didn't want to be caught out on the trail after sundown.

(Click images to view them larger)

Outer Banks: June 2012

Pink and orange streaks spread from the sky to color the glassy still open waters of the marsh that are broken only by a snake swimming, head held high, from one bank slowly across to the reeds on the other side. Five wild horses- one chestnut, two blacks, and two palominos- smooth flanks and flaxen manes glowing in the evening light, graze peacefully, heads deep in the reeds. A frog breaks the silence, and suddenly an exuberant chorus is filling the evening with the music of the marsh, accented by the nearby singing of a Common Yellowthroat from atop his wax myrtle tree. The Yellowthroat, and another across the open water, continue proclaiming their territories in song, but the frog chorus waxes and wanes repeatedly during the time we spend on the boardwalk.

Swimming snake

In the morning, a little ways inland from the marsh, I see the bright yellow-orange colors and domed shell of an Eastern box turtle in the muddy undergrowth- the second I've seen while here this week. A female, I think, since the eyes are brown, not red. I love these slow moving denizens of the land, so vulnerable to habitat destruction, cars, and collectors that is a somewhat rare treat to see them these days. 

Box Turtle in the sand near our house here

Such a pretty pattern!

Walking further, Stephen and I are surrounded by loblolly pines and widely spreading, shade-casting live oaks, replete with birds-- Robins, Carolina Chickadees, a Red-eyed Vireo, numerous Pine Warblers singing their musical trill, and a red-bellied Woodpecker moving up a pine trunk. A young Boat-tailed Grackle in a treetop begs his parents for food and a Great Egret passes overhead, croaking deeply as he flies.

We step out of the woods to the marsh edge to see rusty red dragonflies zipping over the reeds, devouring mosquitoes. We love dragonflies! Looking across the sound, we see Monkey Island, an isolated island that hosts breeding Egrets and other birds-- a rookery. 

All those white spots are Great Egrets- hundreds of them!

Osprey