Under fresh leaves, the heron waiting for the water to clear.
Zen Mondays are going “plein air” this early summer.
Turn a page over in the morning light.
Black ink line holds as much depth as the single leaf.
Hiding in plain sight or standing tall in the crowd, which blossom are you?
Taking in the evening glow, at the unexpected turn by the water path.
The infinite mirror of observing nature, and finding it directing its look at you.
With the first plum blossoms comes a bold spring call.
A game of dried textures, in monochrome ink.
Before the chestnut stands close, hues of roasted gold.
To see the rainbow in a single tree branch.
Through the rainstorm’s blur, a last glimpse of leaves.
Beneath white sleeves, one’s heart awakens, soft with dew. A sketchbook tribute to Hiroshige.
Looking for the first signs of spring in thawing ice. A sketchbook tribute to Hiroshige.
Returning home, to birds and flowers. A sketchbook tribute to Hiroshige.
