My Day Job

A small chipmunk drank deeply from the birdbath this morning, then scurried down and ran across the yard with its usual lightning speed.  We haven't seen chipmunks much lately, cold as it's been, but today promises to be beautiful, and our furry friend most likely has a long list of outside jobs to catch up on.  The entrance to its den is just outside my studio window, and a couple of times, I've been able to see young chipmunks when they first emerged from the den.  They would come out part way, hesitantly, squinting toward the light, and look around, then duck back inside, only to emerge a few minutes later with the courage to come a little farther.  After repeating this process several times, 3 of them appeared together and stumbled over each other, and over the rocks outside my window.  People sometimes ask me where I get the inspiration for my cards.  Being able to see those small chipmunks was ample inspiration.  

First, I took some photos, 

then, did some sketches,

then I painted a little scene and did the lettering,

which became a greeting card.  

I've recently opened a Zazzle store, selling some of my art and photos on the internet, and this image is there on a friendship card, a Valentine card, and a mug.  If you'd like to check it out, the link is above.

Game Warden Cove

In the mid 1950's, not long after Bull Shoals lake was built, a game warden, new to the county, came to this hollow one evening to check the licenses of some fishermen there.(Like they'd ever owned one.)  They apparently didn't appreciate his request, because they wrapped him up in barbed wire and left him there for the night.  Fortunately, it wasn't as cold that night as it is now, and the only serious damage was to the warden's ego, but the story got around quickly, and the locals started calling the place Game Warden Cove.  The name stuck, and if you get to the Theodosia part of Bull Shoals Lake, ask any local how to find Game Warden Cove.  Some of them don't even know how it got it's name.

Snow Dog

A light snow covered the ground yesterday when we got up, and it continued all morning. I stayed in the house, working and watching the birds, and probably would have been content to do so all day had it not been for Barley's sad eyes, silently beseeching me to go for a walk.  

By mid afternoon, the snow had stopped and I bundled up and headed outside with Barley, who ran circles in the snow and cavorted like a puppy, before joining me on the path to the hollow.  

It's easy to think we have these trails to ourselves, since all the animals usually scatter before we approach, but one walk in the snow dispels that notion.  On such days, Barley's nose is constantly following tracks.  Deer had been this way, squirrel tracks wound through the woods, and wild birds had left their footprints in abundance.  

With snow weighing down my boots, our trek took longer than usual.  On the way back, the wind had picked up, and the sun peeked out of the clouds briefly, lighting the blowing snow with a blizzard of sparkles. 

From inside the windows, I would have missed the magic, the exhilaration of the sharp cold air, the squeak of soft snow underfoot, and the pure joy of one dog. 

What was I thinking?

Sleep in Peace