I’ve been wanting to paint this view for a while. Looking down the lake as the light starts to fade is a magical view for me and nostalgic with childhood memories and the call of whipoorwils and loons.
Here is Tom’s poetic response.
whispers of the sunken evening
drift across the mirrored lake
as our feet go walking, weaving
toward our bed where day will break
upon two tousled heads together
nestled down, birds of a feather
while the morning loon embraces
all the world with echo’s traces
now we watch the daylight fade
as stillness falls across the land
here beside you I will stand
against the evening’s ambuscade
of cold and dark that rises high
until the stars enlight the sky