A Colorful Surprise Across the Road

 I was hanging clothes out on the clothesline the other day when I noticed something moving in a field across the road. I couldn't figure out what it was, so I went inside the house for my phone and told Brian I'd be right back. As I crossed the road, I still couldn't figure out what it was until "it" moved.

What I'd seen was the top of a hat.

I discovered it was worn by an artist from New Jersey, Catherine Whitehead. She travelled here to participate in Morristown's Plein Air event. I could only see the top of her hat because she was sitting in the field, painting. The field was a collage of beautiful, colorful wildflowers swaying in the gentle breeze. When I think about it, such a scene is repeated alongside so many of our country roads. After introducing myself, I learned this artist was infatuated with the fields drenched in purples and yellows and oranges and shades of white and green.

Catherine Whitehead was delightful. Very welcoming despite my interrupting, as she mixed her colors and with a few strokes of her brush, added them to her work in progress, out in that field across the road. With her obvious talent on display, I listened as she spoke with enthusiasm and appreciation of the North Country.

Catherine raved about the North Country's natural beauty. She was infatuated by the clouds. She told me some types of clouds she'd never seen before. She fell in love with our clouds that pass above us without a sound. She talked about an Amish family she'd befriended, asking if she could paint their farm. She was told yes as long as she did not paint any of the children. The Amish family loved her interpretation of their farm on canvas. A bond was formed between the artist and the Amish.

Perhaps the most pleasant discovery for Catherine had been the people, from those organizing the event in Morristown to fellow artists, to people she'd met while out painting her beautiful landscapes. Everyone was welcoming, so much so that Catherine told me she will again return to the North Country.

I didn't stay too long. She'd explained the best times of day to be painting in regard to the sun and the light. I realized I'd interrupted her creative flow. I went back to the clothesline. When I looked over at that field a little while later, I didn't see the top of her hat.

The artist had moved on. The clouds were still rolling by.