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  • Writer's pictureMonique Sliedrecht

Pink

I’m sitting by the low light of my lamp in the darkness of early morning.  Soon I will have to get myself packed up and ready to head south, but for now, I am enjoying the quiet.


Yesterday I started drawing the clouds and sea which were dramatic on a rather still day, but got distracted.  In the mid to late afternoon, as the sun started to descend, the light on the clouds was even more breathtaking against a very blue sky.  


George MacDonald wrote a poem about autumn and the first lines resonate


Autumn clouds are flying, flying

O’er the waste of blue...


The clouds took on a striking pink tinge and I rushed to capture them on camera before they were gone.







This morning I woke and threw my covers back, shivering in the cold air. I opened the dresser drawer next to the bed and grabbed a pair of wool socks and put them on.  Now as I look down, I see that they are the pink ones my aunt knitted for me — ones I sometimes wear around the house to ward off the chill.  



Then I noticed that the pink flowers on the Christmas cactus I bought last year are about to blossom. I imagine the flowers will be in full bloom when I get back.


So it seems today's theme is pink.  





The sky is gradually lightening outside, and I can see the frost on the ground.





Here are a couple of wee sketches done in a brief moment of time between packing and sorting.














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