Flowers are blooming on my painting canvas

"I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers"

Claude Monet

It's March and I'm getting Spring fever. This delightful seasonal affliction always strikes at this time of the year although there is snow on the ground with flowers remaining buried beneath frozen earth, dormant, waiting for revival.

The view out of my window is still winter with a thick layer of snow and ice on the river surface but there are signs of change. Beneath the bridge and in the middle of the river, an open expanse of water snakes down the centre. No sign of ducks as yet - they wait for warmer temps but this is a spring-y sign. Even an unexpected late winter snow fall doesn't linger long since the earth is warming up due to longer days and stronger rays of the sun. In another month or so, the familiar honking of Canada geese flying in "V" formation will announce their seasonal arrival, taking up residence along the river banks. Their arrival, however, isn't welcomed by everyone but I digress.

As an artist and flower lover, my subject of choice is - no surprise - landscapes and flowers. Actually, capturing their images sustain me over the long layover between fall and Spring. On occasion and upon entering the imaginary world of flora and fauna with paint brush in hand, it appears that I can actually smell fields of poppies and wild flowers as they bend in the breeze. Each petal is depicted as a painted image with streams of shaded colors flowing on to the canvas surface until it flourishes into a flower. It's the same type of satisfaction derived from working the soil in the garden and carries me until the arrival of the real thing. Can't be too soon for me.

It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want - oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so! ~Mark Twain

Dreams of green

I like to think and believe that January is the gateway month towards Spring. At present everything is covered in white for the most part, except the still-decorated Christmas fir trees that have yet to be removed by the condo association. Most likely they're waiting until warmer weather to make the job easier and in any case, one takes touches of green wherever one can find it.

Looking at the river from my window, there are large bulges of ice/snow that solidified in place during the winter freeze-over, resembling white choppy ocean waves. It's a very surreal scene as if time suddenly stopped. Staring at the river as I do from time-to-time, my mind can envision clear water with ducks floating leisurely by, if I squint my eyes tight. Where there are now snow covered flower beds, my vision is that of wildflowers and perennials breaking the earth.

The narrow walking path along the river leading into the small woods closed now for winter, beckons me to explore its secret hollows. There are pieces of trees with broken limbs sprawled near the edge of the water, victims of brutal winter gusts.

Nature is at rest but my dreams of green sustain me until Spring.