Salt Mine Spirit

It was a gorgeous day with large puffy white clouds against a cerulean blue sky. I set up my painting supplies on a patch of conveniently placed concrete leftover from the salt mining activities of long ago. The view was amazing.

I stood looking at the vastness. Should I turn my canvas to paint the scene just to the left of this scene? Or should I leave it as is? I looked up with those questions in mind. A bird caught my eye over the canyon, flying high above the mountain directly across from me. What? Is that a bald eagle? Yes! It was as I incredulously looked for and validated the telltale white tail and white head. I couldn’t believe it. In the six years I’ve lived in Camp Verde, Arizona, and the many times I’ve hiked this location, I’ve never seen an eagle here, only hundreds of ravens and some turkey vultures.

Eagle sightings are rare where I live. The past year has netted me three sightings. I saw none in the four years prior. I feel blessed every time. So, this was my sign. The canvas is facing the correct direction. I usually see a red-tailed hawk as my messenger. One time down by the river, it was a snowy egret.
I started with a chunky graphite stick and drew the parts of the scene I wanted to paint. Then, I painted. When I was close to filling in all the colors except the green, the wind picked up in gusts. I asked if I could please paint the green. I painted the green, but not without a fight. The wind moved my canvas around, flipping it back onto itself several times. The rock weights at the corners were no contest to the determination of that afternoon wind. I finally had to surrender. Packing up was fun. Ha! I packed as best I could, folding the canvas in half and quickly hiking back.

I laid the painting on my deck to dry when I returned home. In the studio, I completed it.