I did a quick charcoal sketch of this particular bird, the other day, in preparation for this painting. I haven’t seen one of these lovely birds since leaving Ohio. Their territory does extend to south Florida. I hope I do see some, soon. I enjoyed painting this.
The morning was a cup filled with mist and glamor. In the corner near her was a rich surprise of new-blown, crystal-dewed roses. The trills and trickles of song from the birds in the big tree above her seemed in perfect accord with her mood. A sentence from a very old, very true, very wonderful Book came to her lips, “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” — L. M. Montgomery, Anne of The Island