One day last winter, I stopped and took a photo of neighboring cows. The scene caught my attention because in a landscape of bare winter trees, the cows were resting contently on the verdant green grass; lush grass that seemed out of place in winter on the Blackland Prairie soil.
“He makes me lie down in green pastures…” Are there times when God does help us slow down, stop, or lie down long enough to look at the green pastures of provision he gives amidst the harshness of life? Maybe so.
“He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul.” Psalm 23. Surely, He does, … with goodness and mercy.
There is much “to-do” about how to make greens, because (heaven forbid) one should never use greens straight out of a tube! So, on this gray day, I enjoyed respite from Texas heat and painted the muted greens on our property from observation. For the artists reading — On my palette was ultramarine blue, cerulean blue, light cad yellow, yellow ochre, burnt umber, payne’s gray, titanium white and a touch of radiant red. From that, (no green tubes there) I painted the greens of the hayfield and mesquite trees. In case you noticed in the photo, yes, there are other colors at the top of my palette, but they are dried up spots from other sessions.
Now back to those of you who don’t care what colors I used. As I painted, I thought. I thought about the twists and turns of the tree trunk and wondered how long it took to get to this size. Knowing the power of the wind that blows across this field, I imagine this one is deeply rooted. Notice how the twisted limbs show that life knocked him for a curve for a few years! And, notice the new growth toward the top; the tiny branches that keep growing, even when the trunk itself has done a full life’s work. Even after the Texas Ice Storm, when it looked dead, this mesquite came back to life for another year!
Greens on a Gray Day 9×12
In case you missed the obvious lesson here…life is a journey of twists and turns. It makes us, or breaks us, as we learn to adapt to the winds that blow. We start with basics and learn to mix the paints to give the results we want. Strong roots are important for standing against obstacles. And the twisted scars that we end up with are often beautiful, when we stand back and observe with a grateful heart. Even on a gray day.
Caught By Surprise 16×20 oil on gallery wrapped canvas $225
We hunt with cameras – my husband and I. (Not that we are against guns, or have not had venison in the freezer many times.) But, when we walk together, we hunt with cameras. One such adventure is the Story Behind the Painting, Caught By Surprise!
For several days we had spotted ducks in our pond, only to see them fly away before we got very close. Steve devised a plan to sneak up on them. The next morning, we left the path and swung wide to walk through high grass to the back side of the dam. Quietly making our way up the grassy hill to come out behind mesquite for camouflage, we peeked out to see, not 10 or 20, but 75 to 100 assorted types of ducks enjoying our pond! As the clicks of our cameras alerted them, they began leaving in groups, rising up over us in a swish of wind, wings and whistling sounds. It was a magical moment!
I watched them take flight. It seemed like chaos with their first lift-off, but they quickly retreated into line formations and soared in sync to the next body of water. Some small groups lingered a little longer in our waterhole, but then left together, following the path of the others. And then the pond was empty. The water stilled. The sky was open. And the moment was gone.
Photographs and Paintings — our way to hold on to the magical moment, just a little while longer!
The huge bare tree in the stark winter landscape filled the sky in larger than life proportions. When I took the photo in a Texas State Park, I noticed how small my grandsons looked in comparison. Although these brothers argue and fight like any siblings do, they are walking in the same direction on most days, looking out for each other. It only emphasized the message that jumped out at me. This road we travel in life can be spooky at times. There are huge obstacles growing before you that seem unsurmountable. The shadows seem to come out of nowhere and cast gloom on some days. We can’t always see where the journey is leading and it takes courage to keep going around that corner to the unknown.
May there be someone to walk with and talk with on the journey, someone to keep you company, and someone to love and love you. We are on this road together!
Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labor. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falls; for he has not another to help him up. Ecclesiastes 4: 9-10
I am coming to the end of a season, in more ways than weather. While the fall breezes are beginning to tickle at the edges of the intense summer heat, our time at The Ranch is coming to a close, also. Our new build is finished inside! We are moving in this week! After nine months of being in a transitory state, I think we have birthed a barndominium!
Before and After
You might remember, we began with a metal barn on 29 acres. Steve took walls apart, designed a new floorplan, and we secured a contractor to get this project underway. We chose this site because it is six miles from our son’s family. The acreage gives “room to breathe,” and be close to nature. Interior photos coming soon!
Since November 2018, we have lived in a log home at the 85 acre ranch on the northwest side of Waco. (If you missed those adventures, scroll back and read the blog.) It has been the perfect Artist Retreat for me with access to almost daily plein air painting. And, I have more than 50 or so new paintings and studies from this place.
I’m in the process of revealing these new paintings in a special online art show on this website! Also, many of them will be featured in my space at the Brazos Fine Art Show, to be held at the Waco Hilton, November 8-10. All paintings are for sale!
The end of a season is usually welcomed. Most of us are glad to pack away summer clothes and get out sweaters. (Most of us are just as glad to pack away those sweaters when the warmth of spring rolls back around. ) Yet, there is something melancholy about coming to the end of a season. And while my knees are ready to live on one level again, and I am eager to bid the outside laundry room goodbye, I will miss the sunrises over the pond, the surprises of wildlife strolling by, the shade of the front porch swing and the ever present hospitality of the Covington Family, the owners of the Ranch.
With gratitude, and a bit of anxiety, I close this chapter and look forward to what’s ahead on Red Gate Road. —Melanie Stokes
What a difference a season of time makes!! I painted Lonely Tree in the first few months of moving to the Ranch. The stark lack of foilage and evidence of wind, whipping its branches in the winter, caused me to name it “lonely tree”. (Yeah, yeah, there might have been some subliminal identification with it on my part at the time, after moving four states westward.)
The Gathering 10×20 Oil
But now, six months later, I look at the same tree and see that it has new growth, has sprouted numerous new leaves, and gathered bushes and various wildflowers underneath to share its shade. I think I will call this one “The Gathering.” It is a comfortable place to be. What a difference a season of time makes!
“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.” Ecclesiastes 3
