Lac Bouchard

This is the second of two paintings done “en plein air”. I picked a wonderful evening. To begin with I wondered if I had left it too late. After all I set out at the nth hour of seven or as my husband prefers nineteen hundred hours. The sun sets at about nine thirty  these days and it takes around an hour to get to where I was going. The other thing that bothered me was that I really did not know where I was headed. I remembered the general vicinity, a beautiful spot the children and I had discovered on a Sunday afternoon drive. I could not remember the name of the lake. I began making up excuses for not going such as I do not have the “right” equipment. Truly the task would be easier if I had a proper lightweight, ‘en plein air’ easel. Sigh. Choose and move. I set off with my cardboard box full of prepared panels, my less that efficient fold up easel, my oil paint box and a bucket with the extra things like a bottle of mineral spirits and rags in it. As I drove I passed the point where I thought the turnoff should be, again excuses bubbled up. “You missed it. Maybe you should just go home.” Of course being the stubborn… determined individual I am I continued down the road. I decided to relax and enjoy the ride. I turned off the road when the sign indicated Lac Bouchard Lake. I did remember that the trail continued out onto a sandy spit so I did not stop at the upper campsite and ventured as far as the spot where the four by fours evidently had trouble getting in and out. OK. I have a 1995 Neon. Not the same thing. I would walk from here. Being present opens a world of wonder. I was serenaded by a lovely chorus of frogs to the south and  a  profusion of birds all around. The light softened into liquid gold. Awestruck I almost forgot to paint.