Persistence - Houghton Maine

What follows is a poem I penned years after our trip to Houghton, Maine.  One of the things I savor about painting on location is the peace it brings at the time and its lasting impact on me. When I looking at a painting or sketch comlpeted on location (however it might pale compared to the actual scene) literally brings me back to the time of place of its creation.  I remember the sights, sounds, temperature, smells, and so many other details of that moment in time.  

I developed love of writing while attending Westbrook High School (thank you Mr Hughes, Mrs Rich, and  Mrs Hamilton) that was nurtured in college  by Constance Hunting, Marjorie Wilson,  and other members of the English Department at UMO who allowed and encouraged a Psychology Major to enroll in advanced writing classes.  I'd like to think that I was aware of the help and gifts that you shared with me in my teens and early twenties - but I'm sure I wasn't.  I cannot thank you enough for your time and encouragement.

Persistence

Watercolor completed on location

Houghton Maine

Persistence

A slight turn off the paved road

The grass quickly rises above the bumper, gently pushing us along

The road constricts, tree tops block out the sun

Branches tap the roof

Gently at first, then with more urgent groans, warning us to stop

How far the road will let us go?

A birch sapling stretches across the road

A warning

A long steep drop hidden around the corner

The road sprints downhill

Ending in a small clearing

Hidden by the last drop in the road

Surrounded by thickly wooded hills

Guarding their secrets

Bear scat and moose track tell me that we are not alone

I grab my paints and slip into the woods

Heading for high ground

The trees refuse to surrender the view I hope to find

Persistence

Stubbornness

A fine line

Rewarded

Invisible to a casual glance

A small scar, a remnant of past storms,

Offers an opportunity

To see above and beyond the trees

To see the entire valley

Persistence

Pine, Birch, and spruce claw their way skyward

Pushing rocks aside

The scar was already fading

Hours spent painting, the memory is set

My back is aching, paying the price for hours of concentration elsewhere

It was worth it

I don’t need to return here to know - this view is no more

The moose and bear travel as the mist, fleeting yet present,

Unwilling to be seen

They persist

Oil painting completed on location
Looking up from the campsite

Watercolor
Interrupted by swarms of black flies