Looks like I'm going to have to stop the daily paintings until this fall. There is too much to do in the gallery and outside this time of the year. The woodland flowers have been great this spring and we've had some wonderful walks in the woods. We have our kayaks on Lake Luzerne and go for a short paddle evenings after work. It's also time to get to painting hot air balloons for the festival in September!

"Rockwell Falls at High Water"

How quickly things change! This is how Rockwell looked on April 29th from the overlook behind the library. The big water transformed the falls into a giant wave. Now it has all run to the Atlantic Ocean and the falls are back to normal again. Our sons, who were here to guide rafts on the Moose and the Upper Hudson during the spring flush have left for the rivers in West Virginia and Montana. During the past couple weeks the two guys, one girlfriend, two dogs (one a Newfie) and even our old, worn out favorite pick up truck have left. Now it’s back to just Gino and I until next spring when the snow melts and the rains come. Gone are the numerous wet rafting clothes hanging on the old chin-up bar in my studio door, river booties and gloves on the heaters, late night parties with rowdy raft guides, and a heavy raft and a shredder atop the chest freezer. Now there are leftovers to eat a couple of times a week. Why is it we still miss them?

SOLD www.lynnbenevento.com

"Split Rail Patterns"

I think I’ve figured out what to do for the month of May. I’ll spend at least an hour on the little canvasses every day and they’ll get finished whenever they get finished. That way I can still work on the other stuff and not be pressured to get the little guys done on time. Hopefully there will be a one or two a week. Today’s isn't signed, but it’s almost ready.
Sunday seemed on the cool side and it had been raining, but in the late afternoon the sun came out. The two visiting canines, Marlee and Felix, were pretty discouraged by this time on the lack of their daily walk. Marlee is a hundred and thirty-pound ursine Newfoundland with long black hair and a wish to love and drool on anyone he meets. Felix, whose father was “Brown Dog”, is a mix of breeds from West Virginia. He is bright and friendly and can run all day long seemingly without tiring. Gino had stuff to do at the house and the boys were off on the river so I decided to take the four-legged creatures on a walk by myself. I thought I’d do that another day when our oldest son saw me leash up the two unruly dogs and said, “I’ll go with you.” But I’ve been watching the “Dog Whisperer” and figured I could keep them in line on the road to the woods. It did work out well, both Felix and Marlee let me think that I was pack leader and in complete control. Luckily no other people or dogs were out as the guys are easily distracted. We made it to the forest where they no longer needed their leashes and they both took off with the excitement of running free.
Whenever I step into the forest it seems like a safe sanctuary from the rest of the world. We walk on the horse and snowmobile trails, so there are many choices of paths to take. The ice and snow has finally retreated from the trails but the wildflowers are waiting for warmer days. Sunday was warm but I could still feel the coolness of the newly thawed earth under my feet. Every once in a while a step on solid looking ground would sink six inches into mud, not good for formerly white sneakers. I went to find the early hepatica protected by the tree to find no sign of them. But about a foot away there were two fragile looking blossoms a day from opening. It’s always exciting to see the woodland flowers after a long cold winter. On the way back the March-like wind came up and the sky darkened and threatened rain. Just before coming out of the woods I heard a “peeper” singing solo. Every year I love to hear those little amphibians peeping their little hearts out to announce that spring has arrived. A few years back my brother visited Uncle Bill who in his nineties was in a nursing home. Bill was a strong, extremely interesting Adirondack man who was lovingly known as “Uncle Bill” to many people, related or not. The years had taken their toll and in the nursing home he spent a lot of time in silence. But that day he looked out of the window and asked, “Are the peepers singing? I miss hearing them.” Makes me want to listen really hard whenever I hear their cheerful spring chorus.
When we left the woods there were a pair of Canada Geese in the pasture. One of them was honking up a storm at the sight of us. I didn’t think we seemed all that alarming. Maybe it was the Newfie. Gino came out to meet us and today’s painting is the scene we both saw. Beech Mountain was in the sun with a backdrop of dark clouded skies. Time always gets away from us but we shouldn’t let any day pass without a walk in the forest.

SOLD