What an incredible winter we are having- January 10th and 50 degrees. So I trekked up to a special place on our farm that has never been tilled. Around here steep rocky ground is called a goat prairie, and isn’t much good to the farmer. Old prairie grasses and plants still grow there just as they did before the settlers arrived. As I painted, I thought about the trail that wanders through that wild patch, and I pictured all the activity that must happen to make such a well trodden path: the opossum waddling along with his nose to the ground, perhaps a couple of does walking single file, stopping to listen for a moment, followed a little later on by the buck following their scent, a coyote trotting up to the top of the hill who stopped to call out to see who else is out on the run, and then of course, me with my paintbox. Tomorrow we might have snow.