The poet said that April is the cruelest month. But February’s no picnic either.
Yesterday it was 65 degrees and sunny in North Carolina, where I went on an errand, and now I am returned to Maryland where it is neither 65 degress nor sunny, and I am not happy about it. I am happy to be in Maryland, but not happy about the weather. Though the famous Pennsylvania groundhog promised an early spring — and I believe him — yet the taste of spring I got yesterday makes me impatient for its arrival here. And that’s just the way it is. I am impatient and grumpy, and I want spring here and I want it now. Perhaps it’s one reason why I paint. I can portray the weather I wish I were experiencing.
Though I was altogether caught up in other business during my trip, I did take a brief moment to make a very fast sketch of the Carolina moon through pine trees.