The Clearing

A record setting stormy October 2005.
Day after day after day of gale force winds and pounding rain.
I had to run a line from one cabin to the next and anchor it to the truck
just to get to the main house for wine.
Every stitch of clothing was soaked. The pages of Pat’s book were mush.
Back building winds blew the house full of smoke and kept up a constant howling rickety
racket as it played the cedar shingles like bones.
The surf beat the living hell out of the beach below
and drowned out the news from Lake Wobegon.
And woe be us soggy dreary souls with moss growing in our armpits.

And then…
The Clearing.

This was the sight that greeted us coming down the lane just before the heavens cleared.
I ran all the way back through the meadow from camp with camera swinging and dog bounding
ahead to capture the sunlight raking across the Darling’s farmhouse and stone wall.
With the wind still whipping the trees and the clouds clinging stubbornly to the horizon..
the light had finally returned.
I worked all winter on a series of paintings from that hour or two before the sunset
when all was wet and alive with hope.