I stood by my car, trunk open. I unloaded my gear, easel, pastels and paper. I stood in the sun of that summer day and looked at this spot along the road that I had called my dune. It is in the midst of fields and trees. A dune , right there, with its sand spilling into the roadway if the wind blew just right. I had to paint my peaceful dune in the midst of cars heading north or south. My peaceful place.
I stood by my car, trunk open. I unloaded my gear, easel, pastels and paper. I stood in the sun of that summer day and looked at this spot along the road that I had called my dune. It is in the midst of fields and trees. A dune , right there, with its sand spilling into the roadway if the wind blew just right. I had to paint my peaceful dune in the midst of cars heading north or south. My peaceful place.