When painting, and in the proverbial "zone", it is easy to not feel certain things, one of those things can be the cold. Only when I was was packing up did I realize how cold I had become. No longer will I pass on the big Sorel boots because I don't think I need them.
This spot was so quiet you could hear the lake ice making very deep muffled cracking and popping sounds. Viewing this piece brings the sensations of those few hours back to me.
At this time of year even Wisconsin's busiest State Park, Peninsula, is often devoid of people. Visiting in Summer or Fall amidst the throngs, I enjoy thinking back on how totally alone I was here.
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