By C. F. Lawrenson

18" x 38"

In the summer of 2010 we went for a hike with our daughter Kristin and her husband Stewart on a section of the Appalachian Trail in the Smoky Mountains. This part of the trail follows closely the Tennessee-North Carolina border and leads to this huge rock outcropping known as Charlie's Bunion. 

By C. F. Lawrenson

22.5"x32"

I love the Wild Places; the places you have to make an effort to see. One of those places is Abrams Falls in the Great Smoky Mountain National Park in Eastern Tennessee. Our daughter Kristin and her husband Stewart live approximately an hour from this area and Kristin took us on a 2 1/2 to 3 mile hike through the woods to this inspiring site. Once again I was awestruck by the sculpture of the landscape and kinetic sculptural quality of the water that carved it out.

By C. F. Lawrenson

The inspiration for this painting came from an old broken down bench located at the top of a hill overlooking Mansfield State College. I took several black and white pictures of it around 1970 and several years later I did a pen and ink drawing of it. It wasn't until 2003 that I decided to feature the old bench in a painting. The infamous water tower was located behind the viewer and part of the roof of Decker Gymnasium (which was under construction when the photos were taken) was visible from here, where the path goes down the hill. I replaced it with a barn roof off in the distance. As the campus grew and became known as Mansfield University, it gradually encroached on this Lover's Lane of the mid 20th century. Now, it is all but forgotten.

By C. F. Lawrenson

My sister and her husband live on a beautiful piece of property in northern Pennsylvania with a pond, woods and an open field. I love visiting there and every time I do, I’m able to observe many different species of birds. They were probably surprised when I was drawn to this pile of old railroad ties and rocks that my sister kept after her husband to clean up. I was excited by the light and dark patterns in this pile and the surrounding field. I immediately thought of a barred owl for this scene because it’s light and dark patterns seemed to echo the existing patterns in the landscape. 

By C. F. Lawrenson

The sound of water gently falling over rocks, in a brook or creek, has always been very soothing to me. I am sure it is soothing to a lot of other people as well, and that is probably why the famous architect, Frank Lloyd Wright, designed the house over falling water for the Kaufmann family. I love to be in places like this spot, along Stony Fork Creek south of Wellsboro, PA, and just listen to the gurgling noise of steady but gentle white water as gravity pulls it over and around the rocks on its journey to the sea. I listen to the rhythmic music of the tumbling water while studying the patterns within it, and taking in the surrounding landscape that benefits from the water, while keeping it on its path.

By C. F. Lawrenson

This painting was inspired by a falls located along the turkey path, about halfway down the mountain from Leonard Harrison State Park in the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon. Eventually this water will flow into the rocks where I painted The Last Hurdle and on into Pine Creek. I had to get off the path and climb down into the creek bed to get this view.

By C. F. Lawrenson

Although Canada Geese migrated through our area every year, they did not begin nesting here until the mid 1980's. In the spring of 1984 this pair flew into a small fire pond that was fenced around. Since Canada Geese need a running start to take flight, the fence had them trapped. I was able to spend a couple of days drawing and photographing them.

By C. F. Lawrenson

One of our favorite things to do on a nice day is to ride our bikes on the Rails to Trails that snake through the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon along Pine Creek. This particular day, we rode from Blackwell to Slate Run and ate our lunch on the deck of the Hotel Manor overlooking Pine Creek. We observed both Blue Heron and Green Heron on our ride south and got to watch an osprey for a while as we ate our lunch. Then we noticed an eagle feeding on a fish on top of a rock about 50 yards up stream. As we carefully walked up the edge of Pine Creek to get a closer look, the eagle took off and flew right past us. I decided to use a background inspired by these trees reflecting in the water about a mile up stream.

By C. F. Lawrenson

In the fall of 2007, I was walking along the Cowanesque River when I spotted a red fox up ahead. He didn't seem to mind me following him, but as I moved forward, so did he, always maintaining the same distance between us. I got to observe him for quite a while, until a dog from a nearby house began to bark, and he ran off into this swampy area. A few months later when portions of the swamp were frozen over, I took a walk down into these wetlands and found fox tracks in the snow. I decided to paint a winter scene depicting the fox trying to do the same thing I was doing; find a way around the yet unfrozen bogs. Of course, the fox being lighter, more athletic, and smarter about his environment than I am, would have no trouble getting around the thin ice.

By C. F. Lawrenson

 I was fascinated by the Great Blue’s prehistoric like grandeur, but as I would sneak along the water’s edge trying to photograph them or study them through binoculars, I would always manage to spook these ever alert birds into flight. I decided that this was the moment that I wanted to capture in my painting; that split second when this giant bird lifts out of the water.

By C. F. Lawrenson

In the early 1980's I was hiking a familiar trail up a mountain north of Westfield, Pennsylvania. I kept hopping over the same small stream and finally took some time to rest beside it and watch the chipmunks as they scurried around. The closer I got to the ground, the more I realized what a different view of the landscape some of our smaller creatures had. 

By C. F. Lawrenson

In the summer of 2004, we spent some time near Watauga Lake in Tennessee. This large lake has approximately 147 miles of wilderness shore land. We rented a pontoon boat one day and explored many of the coves and inlets. Part of the day we followed this egret and watched him as he balanced on this log. The title doesn't just refer to the egret. I was also fascinated with the balance of sunlight and shadow on the water, as the sun got lower in the sky.

By C. F. Lawrenson

On the eve of the Vernal Equinox in March of 2015, we got a small snowstorm. Thinking that this might be the last significant snow of the season, Holly and I headed for some state forestland where we could observe and photograph the phenomenon of fresh snow clinging to the hemlock trees. The inky, dark shape of the stream winding through this small snow covered canyon offered such a powerful contrast to the delicate snow covered branches that I had to do this painting.

By C. F. Lawrenson

Many of us have discovered special places in our lives that just seem to heal and renew our spirit. For me, it is a place where I have always felt immersed in God’s artistry. It is a place in the mountains of Northern Pennsylvania called The Asaph.  There are a couple of thousand acres of State Forest Land here and many of my paintings have featured bits and pieces of this beautiful place, such as Evening Watch, Dry Autumn, Tentacles and Mixed Marriage. However, in this painting, I didn’t try to record anything specific, but instead tried to capture the mood and essence of an “Asaph Morn”.

By C. F. Lawrenson

This painting was inspired by the exposed root system of a large hemlock. The seasonal rise and fall of the water eroded so much soil away from it over the years that this big evergreen began to sink into the creek until the bottom came to rest precariously on a large rock, like a horseman on a saddle.  Of course, as the tree sunk, more of the root system was pulled up and out of the stream bank. The intricate configuration fascinated me, and in some places, the smaller, sun bleached roots reminded me of the antlers on the white tail buck that roam this area.

By C. F. Lawrenson

While taking a walk around the swampy end of a lake in northern Pennsylvania, my wife Holly took a great picture of an osprey perched on this crooked stump that was poking out of the water. Ospreys will dive into the water to snag a fish rather than skimming them off the top with their talons like eagles do. This Osprey's breast feathers were matted together in small triangular clumps indicating that he had already been in the water at least once. In my mind I could see a different background from the one that existed, with a sunrise highlighting a new morning sky as last night's storm prepares to move on.

By C. F. Lawrenson

While exploring the shores along the coast of North Carolina near Beaufort, my wife and I found several places where cedar trees had been uprooted and toppled over by storms. The saltwater kills the vegetation quickly but the wood is almost preserved by it and the tree's skeleton can stay intact for many years. As we walked around the island we happened across this incredible configuration in cedar with a great egret roosting in it. The somewhat abstract radial design just jumped out at me and the egret was kind enough to model for over an hour.

By C. F. Lawrenson

This painting was inspired by a place on top of a mountain near our home. This field was left unused for several years and the old rusty gage seemed to be frozen to the ground in the open position. Red-tailed hawks abound in this area and are frequent hunters in abandoned fields like this one.

By C. F. Lawrenson

Several of my paintings feature the root systems of trees exposed by weathering or erosion. Their abstract sculptural quality fascinate me and I love exploring them in a pencil drawing. This scene of the roots of a white birch caught my eye because of the way in which these light colored roots split up the space and contrasted against their dark earthy background. I chose to include a nuthatch because I have seen so many of them along this stream, crawling head first down the trees and toward the roots which seem to spread out like tentacles in search of food and water.

By C. F. Lawrenson

Some friends of ours own a small camp along Stony Fork Creek south of Wellsboro in north central Pennsylvania. Their land slopes gently down to this beautiful spot where the waters have flowed between these rocks for thousands of years. I spent one peaceful day drawing this scene while sitting on a rock that juts out over this stream like a shelf.

By C. F. Lawrenson

The idea for this painting came from many early morning bike rides on a dirt road located on the outskirts of our small town. The open fields along the road were filled with chicory and wild carrot, often called Queen Anne's Lace. I was able to observe Eastern Bluebirds in this area nd their coors fit perfectly with the blue flowers, white lace, and the orange in the sunrise.

By C. F. Lawrenson

One beautiful autumn morning, I decided to hit the dusty trails in the mountains near the town we live in. I ended up on a road that led to a property owned by some friends of ours. I got out of the car to take in the view from the top of this hill and was awestruck by the panoramic scene laid before me. While I was breathing in the splendor, a northern harrier (sometimes called a marsh hawk) flew past me, low over the field, and circled back several times. This painting is a composite; just a slice of the beauty found along the road to Sugar Wood.

By C. F. Lawrenson

On a walk in the early 1980's I found this pile of rocks where a field had been cleared decades earlier. It was located on a century farm bordering state game lands just south of Sabinsville, Pennsylvania. The big maple had held up for years with the weight of these huge rocks against it. My original fascination was with the textures in the rocks and trees that contrasted against the softness of the snow, but it was almost impossible to take a walk on this property without getting a glimpse of at least one whitetail along the way.

By C. F. Lawrenson

An old, abandoned, apple orchard inspired this painting, and its title does not refer just to the storm clouds or the red winged blackbirds. It also refers to the hand of man. The decaying trees represent just a remnant of the old orchard that once thrived here. Several generations of people have probably worked this land and passed on. Now these trees are gradually becoming part of the cycle of life, as nature's pioneer plants are sprouting up to reclaim this field.

By C. F. Lawrenson

Screech owls are one of the smallest tufted owls. They can have gray  feathers or reddish-brown feathers like this one. Their color is unrelated to their sex, geographic location or the season. These birds are year-round residents of our area, which is abundant with the heavily wooded streams and waterways this owl prefers. This is one of the paintings that I have done that was inspired by a stream called  the "Asaph" that runs through a remote state forest land where we frequently spent time with our children on picnics and hikes as they were growing up.

By C. F. Lawrenson

The Water in winter can look like dark ink at times. This was one of those transition periods at the end of winter when the ice was receding and these dark, inky abstract shapes of water were contrasting against the snow. Within a couple of days of seeing this, mergansers and Canada geese arrived to use the open water. In this painting another early arrival, a kingfisher, is also watching the grand opening with keen interest.

By C. F. Lawrenson

The Tellico River has its origins in the Unicoi mountain range near the Tennessee - North Carolina border. Holly and I had stopped in several places along the river to walk among the rocks along the water's edge on a  beautiful autumn day. Suddenly, late in the afternoon, the sun was at the perfect angle to shoot these rays through the fall foilage and light up the water in the middle of the stream, in these warm fiery colors. At the same time, the color of the water in the shadows of the rocks remained a deep blue green. The contrast of the colors in the water was so stunning that I knew I had to paint it.

By C. F. Lawrenson

On one of our trips to Canada, we spent some time hiking in the Bay of Fundy National Park. The last trail we took there led to Laverty Falls, which inspired this painting. I loved the balance of the linear pine trees against the solid mass of intricate rock formations. To me, the most interesting places in nature are the ones that take an effort to get to. In my life, choosing to take the roads or paths less traveled, has made All the Difference.

By C. F. Lawrenson

This is a very small painting that was inspired by some hiking that we did on Grandfather Mountain in North Carolina. The trails were very narrow and thick with growth. But every now and then there would be a rock outcropping we could climb on or an opening through the pines that would offer a window to a magnificent vista. Holly got a really nice picture of this Red Breasted Nuthatch there. We were surprised at how much brighter its colors seemed in comparison to the Nuthatches we had observed in Northern Pennsylvania. It was the perfect little gem to feature in this Appalachian Mountain environment.

By C. F. Lawrenson

In 2014 we spent several days exploring Prince Edward Island in the Canadian Maritimes. One day we happened upon this crow perched on a dead bush with a pine forest backdrop. He didn't seem to be a bit afraid of us and modeled for several pictures. I tried to create a little more atmospheric depth in the painting than was there at the time, and I deliberately eliminated some trees at the base of the closest hill to expose the red earth that was so prevalent all over the island.

By C. F. Lawrenson

This painting came from the same small farm as The Crossing. It appeared to be a storage shed at the back of the barn, probably housing many old relics like the jug that we see just inside the broken window. This was a play on our innate curiosity. I wanted the viewer to contemplate what other antiques might be in the shed, while at the same time, desiring to continue the walk over the hill out back.

By C. F. Lawrenson

One day, while driving through a very small village, just north of the Pennsylvania - New York border, I came across this old abandoned church. I found out from a local resident that the church had been moved from an even more rural location and it looked as if the belfry had fallen and crashed in the grass right next to it. It seemed to be telling the story of the demise of so many small American churches.

By C. F. Lawrenson

This painting was inspired by a place near the bottom of the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon Turkey Path, known as Little Four Mile Run. My wife, Holly, and I have eaten our lunch there many times during bike rides on the trail through the canyon. The rocks are main players in this kinetic design, as they slow the decent of the water and force it to separate and seek paths over, under, and around them.

By C. F. Lawrenson

The greenest place I have ever seen is Prince Edward Island in Eastern Canada. The lily pads in this little pond were just a small slice of the island, but seemed to be a microcosm of the many shades of green found there. The challenge of sculpting them in paint as they curled up and around each other was more than I could resist and the pink flowers added the perfect accent.

By C. F. Lawrenson

The Winds of March bring many changes to the northeast, like the receding snow on the hummocks of last year's uncut fields and the little red buds that are beginning to appear on this thorn apple. But this time of year also brings changes to many wildlife species. These starlings are facing into the wind and fluffing their feathers to trap pockets of warm air as they did all winter to stay warm, but the white spots on their feathers are beginning to fade and their beaks are gradually changing from black to the yellow color they have in the summer. 

By C. F. Lawrenson

Occasionally on my hikes I have encountered trees whose roots are intertwined, but this was the first time I found two trees of such opposite species so permanently connected. One is a hemlock, which is a conifer, an evergreen with very dark, thick and rough bark. The other, a birch tree, is deciduous and has a very thin, light colored bark. The roots were intertwined in a way that made it appear as if they were holding hands.

By C. F. Lawrenson

In the spring of 2012 my friend, Jerry Hendrickson, and I were hiking along Stony Fork Creek south of where I did The Laughing Place when we discovered this mature hemlock with its intricate root system beneath a large rock outcropping. Although we didn't see a bobcat here, I had seen one a couple of miles from this spot, and it just looked like a perfect place for one, looking for the movement of prey in the morning mist.

By C. F. Lawrenson

I have had a special affinity for places like this along Stony Fork Creek, south of Wellsboro, Pennsylvania, where the landscape made me feel like I was in the middle of a large sculpture, carved by God, using his own elements as tools.

By C. F. Lawrenson

Spring is my favorite time of the year because of all of the activity in nature. There are signs of new life and new growth everywhere but nowhere on a greater scale than in our swamps and wetlands. For years I have watched the red-winged blackbirds squabble over territorial rights at this time of year. I was originally attracted to this idea because the reeds and grasses had a woven involvement that was very abstract, but with the real textures of our environment.

By C. F. Lawrenson

This painting was an experiment in color and mood starting with a sunrise I saw in early spring in North Carolina and continuing with a walk around the swampy end of a lake in Northern Pennsylvania, where I had seen two herons on a deadfall. I moved one to the background to help accentuate the depth. I sort of melded the two scenes together trying to develop the misty quality and color of an early spring morning when the leaves are not yet out and the water reflects the colors of the morning sky, and the red color of the new shoots and buds.

By C. F. Lawrenson

The idea for this painting came from an old pair of hockey skates that my neighbor had hanging in his shed. I borrowed them and took them on a walk around the edge of a nearby lake, looking for the right setting. This old wooden bridge that stretched across an inlet seemed perfect.  Dark eyed Junco’s are abundant in this area in winter because of the many different pioneer plants in the open areas that produce seeds. 

By C. F. Lawrenson

While taking a walk at the Tanglewood Nature Center near Elmira, NY, we passed this magnificent old tree that had obviously died and been stripped of its bark before it finally fell into this precarious position. Just as I was walking past this decaying sculpture, a young sharp shinned hawk flew right over my head. I loved the abstract configuration and spiral cracking in this giant edifice as it was slowly being reclaimed by nature, and I could just imagine the sharp shinned hawk touching down here to use it as a lookout perch.

By C. F. Lawrenson

There are probably thousands of small streams in the northern Pennsylvania and southern New York regions that eventually flow into the Susquehanna River System and on to the Chesapeake Bay. This painting was inspired by just one of these runoffs. My wife and I followed this one, known as Pinafore Run, halfway up a mountain until we came to this place where the water was twisting and turning its way over shelves of stone, under a thick canopy of overhanging hemlocks. The water here will join Pine Creek in a matter of minutes and eventually find its way into the Susquehanna River System, which makes this stream, and any like it, the origins of the Chesapeake.

By C. F. Lawrenson

The idea for this painting came from a small family farm near Austinburg, PA, along the Pennsylvania-New York border. The fence line ran right through a creek bed and due to the freezing, thawing, and constantly moving water against the fence post this fence line was in a continuous sag.

By C. F. Lawrenson

This pathway on Cadillac Mountain, in Acadia National Park, Maine, looked like it had been a flowing stream one time, that was suddenly frozen into granite. The subtle pink colors in the granite contrasted nicely with the green plants and trees that were trying to get a foothold in the rocky soil. Pathways like this one are all over Cadillac Mountain, and Holly and I have enjoyed exploring most of them.

By C. F. Lawrenson

Killdeer are quite plentiful in northern Pennsylvania in the spring. They will often lay their eggs in gravel or open fields. One day I got a call from a friend who had found a clutch of eggs in the stones along the edge of a creek bed. I got to observe the mother's activity around the nest for several days before they hatched. The stones were incredibly varied in color and texture, yet the eggs blended in so well that each day I had a difficult time spotting them, even though I knew where they were.

By C. F. Lawrenson

While shoveling snow one day after a storm, I began admiring the beauty of the snow clinging to the evergreens in our yard. There was a small opening like a window between two of the trees and suddenly a small brown bird flew through it so quickly that I couldn't identify the species.

By C. F. Lawrenson

This painting was inspired by a place along Pine Creek known as Rattlesnake rock. I took liberties with the background by creating the look of an older forest on the other side of the creek to better match the ancient quality of the rock and give the viewer the feeling of being able to walk back into it. I have seen blue herons here and they have such a prehistoric look to them that it was a perfect match for these ancient rocks.

By C. F. Lawrenson

There are many places along mountain streams in northern Pennsylvania, like this scene, where the water has carved out an abstract sculpture of tree roots and ancient rocks. I have visited the location, which inspired this painting several times over a 25-30 year period. This little cove is just one of the many places that I have enjoyed sketching on site over the years. This is truly a place for solitude and thinking.

By C. F. Lawrenson

In the spring of 2012 we spent a few days visiting the Chincoteague and Assateague Islands off the coast of the Delmarva Peninsula, where we saw many species of birds. We got a great picture of this egret flying very low, but I didn't like the background in the photo so I put the painting off for a while. My mind keep picturing a different setting, so I developed what I wanted from elements of the marshlands of Chincoteague Island.

By C. F. Lawrenson

While traveling one day on a back road near the Pennsylvania-New York border, I noticed a bunch of old rusted barbed wire rolled up next to a fence post in a field. The spiral configuration of it caught my eye and I wandered into the field to take a closer look. The fence line had never been completed and it was obvious that the wire had been left there to rust for many years.

By C. F. Lawrenson

One of our favorite places to visit is Acadia National Park on Mount Desert Island in Maine. We've been there 3 times and have enjoyed exploring the rocky coast. The rocks appear to have generous quartz content which reflects the natural light. Sine that light changes, depending on the weather and sky color, the rocks can appear cooler or warmer, depending on the atmospheric conditions. On one early morning trek, we noticed that these rocks had much warmer tones where they faced the yellows and oranges of a sunrise. I also wanted to show how the horizon line is obscured and seems to disappear into the early morning mist.

By C. F. Lawrenson

In late winter/early spring of 1982, I was hiking around the crest of a mountain just west of Westfield, Pennsylvania, when this outcropping of dark sedimentary rock caught my eye. I saw a limited palette of cool, blue-grays contrasting against the white of the snow and the warmer colors of the fallen leaves.

By C. F. Lawrenson

This painting was inspired by a camping trip to Acadia National Park in Maine. What amazed me most about Acadia was the variety of ecosystems that existed on one island. From sandy beach to rocky coastline, pine forest, deciduous forest, and bald mountaintops, Mount Desert Island just seemed to have it all. To show the expansiveness of the landscape I decided to do a panoramic scene. The kind of view we would experience if we could have a window into Acadia.

By C. F. Lawrenson

23" x 32"

The northeastern region of the U. S. used to be cut up with many of these old stone walls. In recent years these old walls have been raided by builders looking for stone for projects such as fireplaces, chimneys, patios, and facades. This old wall is a remnant of the past, soon to disappear. There is also a remnant of the previous winter hanging on, yet the promise of renewal in the killdeer, one of the first birds to return in the spring.

In the spring of 2017 Holly and I were taking a walk along the Marsh Creed trail when I noticed a small group of willow trees rising out of the high spring waters in some interesting curves and angles. Their reflections in the water gave a sense of symmetry to an otherwise abstract asymmetrical design. Added to the battle between symmetrical and asymmetrical in this scene, was the battle going on between life and decay, which reminded me of the movie Epic. These elements fueled my original excitement for doing this painting, however, the background was so dense with brush that there was no depth to the scene. So I made major changes by removing the clutter, and creating pathways to the back of the painting for the viewer to travel in.

In 2017-2018 Holly and I made three trips to World’s End State Park in Sullivan County, Pennsylvania. This little waterfall was the first place that inspired me to just sit and sketch, but it took two more trips there to figure out the exact angle and elevation that I wanted to use in my painting. My grandfather, Orr Lawrenson, grew up just a few miles from this site and I kept wondering if he had ever been to this spot. I spoke of this to a relative who had spent her whole life in this area and knew my grandfather well. She felt certain that he had been here; hence the title. I loved the rock formations that forced the water to meander and eventually spread out over flatter rocks with colors that showed through the water, and the strong dark crevices that contrasted against the white water areas.

In October of 2017 Holly and I took a day trip to World’s End State Park in Sullivan County, PA. We spent most of the day on a loop trail that started and finished at an outdoor Chapel. Since I spent some time sketching on this trail, it wasn’t until late afternoon that we got to the top of the mountain where the “Rock Garden” was Located. I was absolutely mesmerized by the large rock outcroppings that were there, and sadly, we were running out of daylight. So we went back two days later and spent most of the day exploring this area. This painting represents only a small portion of these magnificent rocks . The path through the rocks  reminded me of Matthew, Chapter 7 verses 13 and 14 in the Bible. 

In March of 2018 we traveled north to the Montezuma Wildlife Refuge to observe the Snow Geese migration. After missing a turn, we stumbled upon a cornfield with, what appeared to be, several hundred Snow Geese in it.  They kept rising up in the air and gracefully floating back to earth in small groups. I knew I didn’t want to paint hundreds of geese so I initially selected 9 to draw for this painting. That turned into 12, which eventually turned into 14 geese in order to achieve the composition that I wanted. I changed the background to provide more depth and spent some time trying to develop the colors of a late winter sky that was reflected in the snow.

In the fall of 2016 we were shown a trail to Sand Run Falls in the Tioga State Forest located between Morris, PA and the little hamlet of Arnot. It had been a hot, dry summer, so there was less water falling over it than we had seen in pictures, but the dry weather afforded me the opportunity to study the rock formations that were normally covered with water. The trail we used led us to the top of the falls, and since it was a box canyon, it was a little challenging to get to the bottom for this view, but well worth it. I loved the rhythms in the patterns of layered rocks and the water falling over them, but as the sun got lower in late afternoon there was also the rhythm of sun spots dancing on the trees and across the canyon wall. 

Smugglers’ Notch is a narrow winding pass that snakes through huge rock outcroppings in the Green Mountains of Northern Vermont. This area has a rich history, starting with Vermonters who used its many caves and rugged terrain to avoid capture as they smuggled goods to and from Canada during the Jefferson embargo of 1807. Then again, as part of the Underground Railroad to smuggle runaway slaves into Canada, and finally to smuggle liquor during the prohibition period. There were many places here where trees grew right on top of the rocks but this spot intrigued me because of this large sentinel like tree that was perched on the edge of a small cliff, held there by a long serpentine root that just seemed to keep growing until it wound around the rock anchoring itself. I loved all the texture but, as usual, I took some liberties with the details in order to provide more contrast in the background and more clarity in the foreground.

There is a beautiful little picnic area in the middle of State Forest Lands in North Central Pennsylvania where two mountain streams come together. this area has always been known to the Locals as “The Asaph”. I don’t know for sure, but I have always suspected that the name was derived from a person in the Old Testament descended from the tribe of Levi who was a music director during King David’s reign. Asaph is also mentioned as the “Keeper of the King’s Woods”. This has always been a special place to our family as we spent many summer days there. But getting there in February can be a very difficult task. There is generally 2 inches of ice under the snow that doesn’t melt off until late April or early May on narrow dirt roads that are not maintained in winter. On this day the only tracks in the snow, besides ours, were animal tracks, but it was well worth the trip.

(dedicated to Marshall)

While exploring the “Rocky Broad River” that flows into Lake lure near Chimney Rock, North Carolina, We spent some time observing and photographing this blue heron as it hopped from rock to rock down the center of the stream. I have featured herons in a few other paintings, and have observed hundreds of them over the years, but this young bird was not like any I had ever seen before. His feathers were the bluest that I have ever seen, and where all other herons I have observed had primarily yellow beaks and yellow to yellow-brown legs this one had blue on the upper beak and blue legs. I did this painting while my Grandson (Marshall) was in a children’s hospital battling Burkitts Lymphoma. We were not allowed to visit him due to covid-19. Like this young heron, Marshall is unique. He has remained positive and happy throughout his chemotherapy treatments and has shown great courage as he has stayed above the roiling waters, always focused on the calmer waters that lay ahead. We are so proud of our little Marsh man.

In the fall of 2019 Holly and I celebrated our 40th wedding Anniversary by spending 5 days near Chimney Rock, North Carolina. Our plan was to spend some time on hiking trails in Chimney Rock sate Park, especially the one that leads to the waterfall that was featured in the movie “The Last of the Mohicans”. In order to enter the park we had to cross a bridge over the “Rocky Broad River” and each time we did, I found myself more fascinated with the river. There were many tourists exploring this river where it passed through the village behind restaurants and shops , so we decided to travel upstream away from the town where we saw few, if any people. places like this offered the solitude I needed to just sit on a rock and draw while Holly wandered around taking pictures. I was fascinated by the rock formations that broke up the waterway, but especially the “Z” shaped rock on the far side of the river. I guess we were social distancing before the phrase became cliche as we explored this area, then I worked on this painting during the Covid-19

pandemic.

(Dedicated to Marshall)

As I worked on this painting I realized that it was a study in contrast. All trees have deformities, imperfections and broken branches, but when winter comes, the snow clings to the pines in a way that dresses them beautifully and hides most of their imperfections. In contrast, the deciduous trees, like these two large maples in the foreground, are already stripped to their skeletons in winter baring all their irregular growth patterns, brokenness, and scars from past encounters with weather, woodpeckers, and humans. Then the snow comes and, instead of hiding these imperfections, as it does for the conifers, it actually highlights them. It seems to accentuate all their brokenness, imperfections, and scars. The clinging snow on these old maples brings more attention to the story of their past, and for me, a different kind of beauty. The beauty of their imperfections. The random placement of the snow laden hay bales seemed to complete that story.

In early autumn of 2020 we were walking in our favorite forest (The Asaph) when I noticed a gully where there had been enough erosion to reveal the intertwined root systems of several trees that were not of the same species. Upon closer inspection I noticed that their root systems were not just woven together but in some places they had grafted onto roots of a neighboring tree so that they were actually gaining strength and nourishment from trees of other species. The gully must have had water in it at one time, causing the erosion, but now it was just filled with dry leaves. I decided to do a pencil study of it first and when my son David saw it, he said that it reminded him of the scene in the movie Avatar where the scientist, Ruth (played by Sigourney Weaver) was explaining her theory about all the plant life on that planet being connected by the roots as if to a common soul. I decided to do the painting with the water back in the gully so that I could play with the idea of the root systems reflecting in the water which would create an almost circular connection. It was very challenging, but coupled with the back lighting, it gave the feeling of God’s light reaching out to those joined together in faith and support.

The Summer of 2020 was much like the summer of 2016 weather wise. It was very hot and dry in Northern Pennsylvania. One day, while wandering along Asaph Creek, Holly and I came upon a moss covered knoll that was incredibly green, and softer than any carpet I had ever walked on. As I walked around it and took a look over the edge at the creek bed I was intrigued by the exposed root systems caused by the erosion of the stream bank. Three days later I went back to sketch and felt there was something very familiar about this place. Later, I realized that we were in the same area that inspired my 2009 painting of a stream bank titled “The Thinking Place”. We were simply on the other side of the stream looking at new erosion of the same bank from a different angle. I had been drawn back to a new look, or perspective, of an old memory. Each time we visited this area during the summer we encountered a pair of ravens that kept their distance but continually moved up and down the creek making a racket as if to warn the forest of our encroachment.

There are many different sub species of Sandpipers found on shorelines all over the world. These little guys we observed on Okaloosa Island along the Florida Panhandle while visiting our son David. They seemingly play tag with the waves as they hunt for small invertebrates in the sand, but they are extremely quick and aware of their environment; and always manage to scurry out of the way of each incoming wave, just in the nick of time. I wanted to depict that situation in my painting where it looks like it is impossible for all of them to escape getting wet- but they will, as they always do.

19”x42”

In 1836, James Hesselgessel , a German Immigrant found this outcropping of granite rock on a mountain top overlooking the wild Asaph Area, which has inspired several of my paintings. It is thought to possibly be the first stone quarry in Pennsylvania. James was carving mill stones from these rocks for local mills. Then suddenly in the early 1860’s, he disappeared and the quarry was abandoned. There are a few different theories or legends concerning his demise. One theory is that he joined the Union Army and was killed in battle during the Civil War, but there are no records to support this. Another story is that he was murdered and buried somewhere in this forest. A third and more plausible story is that he became very ill with flu-like symptoms and walked several miles to the village of Little Marsh, PA where he was taken in by a family until he succumbed from his illness. The configuration of these rocks and the textures of moss as nature reclaimed them, fascinated me, and whichever legend about James Hesselgessel is true, these rocks are his legacy.

“22x32”

During my time as a high school art teacher I had the privilege of working along side of some very good people. One of the best teachers and coaches I’ve ever known was a man named Fernley Leach. Whenever someone was not achieving the results they desired, Fernley would say that they needed to do a little “Reflective Thinking”. I had to do a lot of reflective thinking to achieve what I wanted in this painting. I have observed many species of herons over the years and when they are intent on prey, they either cock their head to one side pointing one eye directly at the water, or their beak is pointed downward. As I watched this little green heron on a swampy pond, that our son David took us to, on the Florida panhandle, his beak stayed pointed slightly above the horizontal. His body language indicated that he was not looking for anything in the water at that moment and I wondered if he also was doing some “Reflective Thinking.”

22” x 36” 2023

In the 1970’s, the Army Corps of Engineers built dams in our rural mountain county to control flooding in more heavily populated areas downstream. This resulted in new lakes and spillways from the dams that never freeze over in the winter. 35 years later we had Eagles nesting in our area and staying all winter. The covid pandemic of 2019-2022, with its mask mandates and social distancing, severely limited our freedoms. As our freedoms are gradually being returned to us, it seems as if we are seeing more and more Eagles all winter long. It may be just coincidental, but as we head into 2024, I see it as a symbol.