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I ran again this morning, under a beautiful alto-cumulus sky, before the rain came over in a grey sheet.  3.26km of hard slog, heavy breathing, putting one foot in front of the other up the hills, willing myself not to stop.  And then on the flat, running like the wind over the last half a kilometer, like a horse with its head turned for home.

Sky with meadow

The pond was beautiful, twinkling with little peepers and the music of cardinals and tufted titmouses. It is a secluded secret place near the meadow, providing life to tadpoles, dragon-flies, turles, and a myriad others who live in and on the water, and to all who drink from there, including my tiny, and numerous, bees. 

Sky with pond.

There is pollen to be had and new little nubs on all the ferns.  Tiny spears of Canadian Mayflower are protruding through the leaf-cover.  And much courting and feathery display, from tiny goldfinches to great big gleaming Mr Tom the turkey. 

Tonight another painting from my Wednesday night course:

Sky with nude.