The Wonderful Snowfall of June the 9th.

C1692

“The Wonderful Snowfall of June the 9th”

(Winter Ridge, Oregon Basin & Range)

Oil on Pannelli Telati fine Cotton Panel

9” x 12”

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This painting was intended to be posted not more than a few days after the smaller study that was posted in mid-May, but once I got back to civilization I found that I had more to do than I had thought, so this posting kept being put off. But now after seventeen days in town, I am back out in the wilds, and I can be getting on with things. It was instructive working on the smaller study (see last post), and it was instructive seeing how much longer this larger one took to do, even with the knowledge already gained. The pigments used were exactly the same for both works, and a nicely limited palette as well.

The Pigments used in the painting were:

Imprimatura & Drawing: Rublev Italian Burnt Sienna;

Pigments: W&N Cobalt & French Ultramarine Blues;

Rublev:  Blue Ridge Yellow Ochre, Italian Burnt Sienna, Lead White #1.

Two earth colours and blue ... I could have used only the French Ultramarine, for my blue, but the Cobalt was already on the palette, so was used rather than let it go to waste. The French Ultramarine was necessary to mix the darkest greens; darker than could have been achieved with the Cobalt Blue.

In the Block-in, shown below, you can see the effect the Imprimatura still has on the Block-in layer. It still affects the final paint layer, but is less obvious. In the finished work, the Imprimatura gives warmth to the greens, and helps to grey the blues in the distance. It also gives a hint of the earthy red pine needle covered forest floor beneath the thin snow cover, especially in the roadway.

The Block-in

****

I returned to the wilds on Thursday, June 4th, passing through La Pine, and heading east on country  road 22, as the Sun was lowering in the west. With the light behind me, I noticed how hazy it was in the rear view mirror, and then I noticed that the haze was swirling, much as if it were smoke. I looked to the hood of my car to see if smoke or steam was coming out from under, but detected nothing. I looked back in the rear view mirror, raising my head so I could see the road closer to the car in my wing mirrors. It looked like faint whispers of smoke, but the colour was a yellowish green, as was the general haze back down the road. I pulled over, popped the hood, looked under and all around the car, with fire extinguisher in hand, and ... nothing. I stopped twice more ... and nothing.  I reached camp about an hour before the Sun set, and noticed that the dust on the car was yellowish green, but down on the car body, near the wheel wells, it was the usual reddish brown ... the last four miles to camp were on dirt roads.

The next day, after tramping around a bit, I noticed the bottom of my trousers had a layer of yellowish green dust on them. I brushed it off, only for it to return after another bit of tramping around. The day after that as I was tramping around in the woods, I noticed that with each footstep I wouldraise a small cloud of yellowish green dust, which would then settle on the bottom of my trouser legs. I have never noticed this before. Oh, ordinary dust, yes.

There are a couple of possibilities that come to mind. One possibility is that perhaps it was dust carried from a far away place on high altitude winds. Occasionally,  when I lived in England, dust would be carried all the way from the Sahara, in North Africa. Perhaps this was a similar occurrence.  The other possibility is that it is  pollen, from these extensive forest hereabouts. In support of that, the colour reminds me of pollen covering the surface of several lakes up in the Gifford Pinchot National Forest in southern Washington, when I was up there in June 2018. It got quite thick in some parts of the lakes. I'm plumping for the pollen theory. If it is pollen I wonder if it is from the pine trees ... I have a vague recollection of hearing of such phenomena.

Additional to the above, is that after a week in camp, I went into La Pine to get ice and fill my water containers. It had rained the previous night, and on the forest roads the now empty puddles and rivulets all had a yellowish green scum-line, like a bathtub ring. I suppose it could be dust from afar, but because it formed these scum-lines, I believe it was finer and lighter than the already fine road dust, and floated on top of the rain water, so I'm still plumping for the pollen.

****

There is a particular type of American moron that comes out to these wild places. I use the term ‘American’ advisedly as it has to do with an attitude of mind to be found predominately, if not exclusively, in this country. The particular persons to which I refer are those that come out to these wild places with the attitude that “since I have a right to be on these public lands, I can pretty much do what I damn well please.”, forgetting  that with rights come responsibilities. In the little over three weeks since I was at my present camp (I'm stopping here briefly before moving further out), it has been occupied by some of the particular morons to which I'm referring. The evidence is several beer cans, broken bottles and empty food tins left in the fire ring; at least four live trees cut down for firewood (I have photographic proof of two that were alive a month ago), ignoring a couple of dead ones that could have been chopped instead (and which would have made a better less smokey fire); spray painting on a tree trunk, and then using the paint can for target practice and then leaving it littering the landscape; driving ATVs off into the surrounding woods, thus leaving ruts which will take months, and sometimes years to disappear (I know they're called All Terrain Vehicles, but they are supposed to be used on roads and certain trails, not willy nilly into the woods, and the National Forest and BLM personel, I believe, would agree).

With rights come responsibilities, and I would go further and say ... obligations, especially here on our public lands, and to the Natural World. A final note would be the leaving of their spent cartridge casings littered about the camp ... this latter almost every shooter seems to do ... I have done so, but nowadays, if I do a bit of plinking, I try to police up my shell casings as much as I can. The amount of brass piled up since last month, indicates there must have been a tremendous firefight here ... attempting to protect all that toilet paper they no doubt hoarded at the beginning of the pandemic. I have no real objections to a bit of target practice.; I just wish that some of the brass would be picked up afterwards.   What I truly object to is the wanton, and very unnecessary, destruction of living trees for too large campfires, and the littering of the landscape, with no regard, or respect, for others who come afterwards to these same wild places. I say again ... with rights come responsibilities and  obligations, to your fellow man, and especially out here in the wild places ... to Nature.  Learn respect for these wild places,  or please stay home. 

Lessons from a Fly (or was it a Bee?)

C1691

“Study … the Wonderful Snowfall of June the 9th”

(Winter Ridge, Oregon Basin & Range)

Oil Sketch on Centurion Oil Primed Linen Panel

5” x 7”

SOLD 

A week after cutting my way back into Oregon, in June of 2018, and before I got up to Three Creeks Lake (see my last post), I was up on Winter Ridge, 3000' above Summer Lake, and a couple miles north of Fremont Point. The 8^th of June was a peerless day, and drifts of buttercups were shining brightly in the green grass of any open meadow that I happened to pass by. Winter was the last thing to be expected, but it's not called Winter Ridge for nothing. I awoke to a wonderful soft snowfall, of a couple of inches, increasing to four by the time I meandered down the west slope to Thompson Reservoir, where the campers there were only experiencing a bit of rain.

It was a wonderful, magical snowfall, and it's been on my list to paint since then. The soft snowfall at my camp on April 4^th this year, got me to thinking about my June 9^th, 2018, Winter Ridge experience, and so I dug out the reference photos, and painted away. I had taken the photos during an intermission in the snowfall, so the hardest part of the painting was remembering where each and every snowflake had been before the snowfall took its pause;D (chuckle), but I got ‘er done! This small Oil, turned out to be a study, for a larger (9" x 12"), finished Oil painting of this magical moment, so I'm warning you in advance that that one will feature in my next post, and quite a bit more costly, I hasten to add.

I am going to change the subject now and return us to the camp I was in when painting the “Ode to an Ancient.”, several postings ago. It was here that I was reminded yet again of how interesting and surprising the Natural World can be, even in the smallest of observances. As children, I believe we noticed many more such things, that we as adults completely overlook, or, indeed, do not take the time to let the small things come to our notice. Whilst supping breakfast, early one morn, I noticed a shaft of light coming through the trees, and reflecting off a tiny object suspended about ten feet off the ground. I had been gazing at it for some time, before it actually registered in my consciousness. At first I took it to be a spider dangling on its gossamer strand, but then I realized it was a small bee, or one of those flies that look like bees. It hung there, staying in position, seemingly motionless, but obviously hovering by the sheer rapidity of its wingbeats, which upon inspection were a blur. Now I’ve seen bees hover over flowers for a second or two and then move on, but this wee beastie, hovered ten feet off the ground for 10 or 12 seconds at a stretch, and then would dart  in some direction for a distance of 10 to 15 inches, halt and go rapidly back to its original position. I had never noticed this phenomena before, but thanks to a shaft of light glancing off it, and causing it to glow like a jewel in the forest, it had come to my attention. A bit of  scanning throughout the clearing revealed several more of these hovering creatures, but none were lit up like the one that first caught my attention. I expect I might have seen this behavior many times before, but had not noticed. I kept my eye out for it the next morning and sure enough it was there. Perhaps this hovering and periodically darting forth only to resume it’s position, was a mating ritual, or maybe it was a defense of a specific territory, or was the darting an assault on some unseen prey (I doubt this latter) … I'll probably never know, but now that I have seen this, l will notice it again, and in fact I did so, later last Summer, in another clearing, 25 miles west of Klamath Falls.

“Inconsequential … who cares(?) … Let's drink beer, get neked and drive fast!,” I hear you say … well, some of you, perhaps … actually, none of you. But some of you have thought it … in your darker moments … however brief (come on, admit it) … but of course you never acted upon such rebellious desires, as no doubt I have a better class of reader (aside from the possibility of arrest or fatal accident, or both).

But enough of the meandering mind. What I am postulating is that to take notice of your surroundings, taking time to see the small, inconsequential things, as well as the larger, more sublime moments (storms, snowfalls, the magnificence of the Desert Night Sky come to mind), enriches your life, and takes you outside the realm the mundane. I know my life is richer for it … even noticing a fly/bee hovering in the dark forest, caught like a jewel within a shaft of light.

The Pigments used in the painting are:

Imprimatura & Drawing: Rublev Italian Burnt Sienna;

Pigments: W&N Cobalt & French Ultramarine Blues;

Rublev:  Blue Ridge Yellow Ochre, Italian Burnt Sienna, Lead White #1.

On to Summer Lake and Hole in the Ground

(Take Note: for those of you who have signed up to be notified by email of new postings to this blog, you have been receiving not just a notification, but an actual copy of the new blog posting as the email.  As this does not show the images of the paintings in the best possible light, you should click on the title of the latest blog posting at the top of the post, and not the title of the painting itself; this will open up the actual blog itself, and you may then enjoy the paintings at their best.)

Coldest night thus far; down to around 0º F; toastie in my sleeping bags, however.  Because I was going to be driving soon, I wore my Sorel boots, but because I remained sedentary during my breakfast, my toes felt the cold; Sorels are best when active, and soon warmed up when I walked around taking photographs.  I retraced my path back down the Chewaukan River to Paisley, stopping to take photographs, inspecting tracks in the snow, and observing the odd bit of wildlife now and again; 2 deer, a startled coyote who dashed off up the slope with his very bushy tale waving behind, and several hawks.  I took care on the road as it was covered in old snow compacted to ice, and I made it down past the snow line without incident. 

Slush-Ice on the Chewaukan

On the Chewaukan

Chewaukan Pewter

I slowly drove around Paisley, before heading north on Hwy 31 to Summer Lake, with Winter Ridge looming 3000’ above along its entire western side.  Winter Ridge or Rim is another one of these fault escarpments that are to be found in this part of the Oregon High Desert.  These to features were named by the Fremont Expedition in the 1840’s.  The exploration party was struggling through along the heights of Winter Rim, when they came to the edge and saw the lake below, snow free.  I expect the names came readily to mind.  I drove about a mile up a forest road to an overlook at the south end of the lake and had lunch, and studied the vista, from Winter Rim to my left around the basin of Summer Lake and to the hills east of the lake, which included Diablo Peak, which I now saw from a different direction than seen during my lunch stop on the previous day.

Chewaukan Landscape

Valley of the Chewaukan

After this I slowly drove up the western side of Summer Lake and stopped at the Nature Reserve for a few minutes.  The circular drive was closed, but you were allowed to drive into the reserve on a day pass, and it probably would have been OK to spend the night in one of the campgrounds there.  Mostly it was duck hunters going into the reserve at this time of the year.  I filed away this information for future reference, and proceeded on my way.

Winter Rim and Summer Lake

Winter Rim and Summer Lake #2

I climbed out of the Summer Lake basin, passing Silver Lake (dry lake bed at present), and eventually passed the road to Fort Rock and Christmas Valley.  I checked out the entrance to several forest roads, but they were all closed from December 1^st – March 31^st to give the area’s wildlife a bit of a respite.  Eventually I found that the road to Hole-in-the-Ground (yes an actual place-name) was open, although snow covered, and I proceeded up about half a mile to spend the night in a clearing found there.  Hole in the Ground is a volcanic maar, about a mile across.  I camped there back in 2010 on Easter weekend.  Coyote deer and elk tracks in abundance in the clearing.  Tomorrow I shall see if I can squeeze out one last painting before heading back to civilization, just before the New Year.

Campsite on the Road to Hole-in-the-Ground