Sketching Druid Hill Creek 5

Sketches from the last of March look just like a couple that date from earlier this month. We had a stretch of cold, wet, grey and monotonous weather that entire first week of April. When the days all have that sameness and it's dark and cold, the public mood stays a bit grim. People begin to wonder if winter has settled in to stay. The world just looks darker. So it's no surprise that I took a few days off from creek sketching to give the scenery more time to change.

I did do a single sketch that cold first week, an almost monochromatic ink and wash drawing on the title page for the month. The day was one of those that seem more unfocused than usual, too, because of the mistiness of the air itself.  The creek was almost indistinguishable from the surrounding trees, but my two nearest companions still stood out. As mentioned in the note, a lot of buds were swelling and spring bulbs had begun coming to life, but the weather was simply not cooperating. Perhaps the poet had it right.

No matter the temporary situation, though, the planet continues in its orbit and the sun yellows and warms. Even if more snow is predicted (as it was at this writing), we can take heart at the immutable dance of the solar system. That is what I tell myself when the gloom seems destined never to part. Still, it's the truth. By the end of its first week, April had begun to settle into a more gentle aspect. Another cold front barreled through and the clear, crystalline air in its wake let more of the warmer sunshine into the warming soil. In the sketch above it's clear how much has changed in a few days, even if the woods are bare of foliage and the grasses remain dry and sere. Here and there in the woods, daffodil heads had begun to droop as their buds swelled quickly. Snow was in the forecast.

The snow came with a vengeance while I was away. Happily, the big unusual storm covered nearly the whole upper Midwest in the kind of unlikely snowy blanket that melts quickly. The garden and creek probably were beautiful that morning, but I was away and couldn't sketch it. We returned to find that the late snow had gone, leaving only a skin of frozen snowmelt here and there as the sun rose. Ten days away from Des Moines, while the sun warmed and fought the snow, has at last scattered green along the banks of Druid Hill Creek.

Spring.

At last.





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Previously
Druid Hill Creek Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4