BY NANCY BINKLEY
MARCH 10, 2020
On a sunny day, like many others, I decided to take paper and watercolors out for a walk. Coming up to a lovely little spot ablaze in a riot of color. I wet my brush in my water bottle and 15 minutes or so later I proudly signed my name and slipped the finished painting from the block.
Just as it was free the wind, which was absent before, came up and took my painting. With a yell I ran after my treasure, hoping to capture it before too much damage had happened to it. It settled down on the grass and I reached out to grab it and just then, that wind, came again and took my picture high up into the air, I watched as it twisting and turning, color to white, paused and dropped suddenly onto the nearby lake.
Angry and hot I approached the ruin of my art. It sadly sat there, one side sinking and the water drinking all the color away. I was heartbroken and started to turn away. Then I really looked, not at my poor ruined painting, but what was around my painting.
The wind had taken my painting, that I had spent a whole 15 minutes on, and in return the wind had given me a gift that will last the rest of my life. I would have taken my painting and happily turned around and left. Never to see all of THIS. This beauty and life that took forever to create.
When the wind comes up, look around and see what you missed. Good deal and I thank you all.