At dinner last night there were many stories shared, many laughs, and many drinks. I walked into the aftermath of it this morning; the kitchen sink piled high and wine bottles sprinkled around. But it was my last day in Giverny, so I took off for one last adventure. I got up on my hill to find it was blowing away. Standing in front of the hill looking up from the path, I took out my watercolors and decided to paint the wind. I did a few studies and then took my bike up farther for a brief walk in the woods I hadn't yet explored. The light was dancing with the shadows because of all the movement in the branches above. I sat there for some time and listened. Then down towards where the horses were before I went. Today they were out from the trees in the open, all huddled together against the wind in a group. One brown horse, three white. The goats, today there was two, were over by the fence. I did a quick pencil sketch and then let the wind push me down the hill towards Vernon, to the Seine.
Horses, windy day, Ivy Hickam, pencil