The Old Wagon

A recent paintout with Outdoor Painters Society in Temple, Texas, took me to Summers Mill Retreat Center near Belton. The acreage is full of vistas and vignettes for a visual artist’s delight!

It’s always more fun to paint with a friend, so Karla and I searched together through many possibilities for painting on the property. One little thing that captured my attention was the light on the edge of an old wagon as it leaned under a cabin’s shelter. So, we set up our gear under the nearby massive oak to enjoy a few hours of painting there. (Well, actually Karla was sitting on the back of her car because she forgot her tripod, but that’s beside the point.)

As I painted, I enjoyed the shade of the oak, the sunshine on my back, and the sounds of children playing in the distance. Families strolled by and some individuals wandered over to see what I was doing. After a few quick conversations, I would return to the visual dance that the sunlight was having with the old wooden wagon. What was up with that pale turquoise green color in the late 1800s? It seems to show up in houses and furniture and now on this wagon. Was it on sale or something?

Now, here is the rest of the story…

As I painted the wagon wheel, I noticed the rusty metal rim tires, the faded wood of the spokes and then the cup shaped metal and wood that formed the hub in the center of the wheel. And suddenly, there was a familiarity hugging me that took me by surprise! It was the same as a wagon wheel hub I have sitting in my house! The same as the wagon wheel hub I possess from my grandfather’s old wagon, the one that probably belonged to his father, the one that I brought in my move as one of several family treasures that connect us to our ancestors. Back in the day, Grandaddy Miller drove a wagon that must have looked like this one! And the connection grabbed me, quite took me by surprise, and made me almost gasp! I could almost visualize the grandfather, who I only knew in childhood, hooking a mule to that old wagon and rattling up a dirt road in the hills of North Georgia. It was one of those serendipitous events that make you go, “Awww.” Those are the little bonuses that often happen on a plein air adventure!

After a few days of painting in both cold and warm weather, being with like-minded artists, exploring new places, and even having a visit with a Fallin cousin who lives only one hour away from me, I’m back home now. (And, found that my sweet husband remembered to clean up the kitchen!) Sometimes, this life is just plain good!