The bad thing about staying in Death Valley National Park is that there are limited options of where to stay. You have three: an expensive hotel; a less expensive hotel; and camping.
The good thing about staying in the park is that there are only two hotels and limited camping. There are no neon-lit chain hotels, no glossy fast food signs. There is not even a food truck glowing in the parking lot. That means the views, even from from the less expensive Stovepipe Wells, are unobstructed million-dollar vistas.
So I set up my pochade box on the front porch of the hotel, and painted what what was in front of me: the broad valley and mountains beyond. A friend stayed with me, and she knitted while I painted.
It was a simple equation:
Being outside + Cookies and tea on the table + companionable silence broken by occasional conversation + paint on my canvas (and in my hair) = Heaven. (Bonus: bathroom nearby—a plein air painter’s dream.)
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Beautiful view, and beautiful work!
p.s. I am envious of your temporary front porch…
Thank you Lee-Ann. It was a wonderful front porch while it lasted.
Lovely, peaceful painting and post; reminds me of how I felt sitting with my grandmother on her porch, shelling peas, occasionally talking, mostly listening and watching, BEING.
Thanks Chris. With my mamaw, it was snapping beans and listening to my motor-mouth cousin tell stories and jokes all afternoon. Those porch days were lovely, weren’t they?