Mother Nature's Palette

When painters leave this world, we grieve 
For the hand that will work no more, 
But who can say that they rest alway 
On that still celestial shore? 
No! No! they choose from the rainbow hues, 
And winging from Paradise, 
They come to paint, now bold now faint, 
The tones of our sunset skies. 
When I see them there I can almost swear 
That grey is from Whistler's brain! 
That crimson flush was Turner's brush! 
And the gold is Claude Lorraine.

"Celestial Painting" by William Percy French (1854-1920)



Music on Monday's #5 was given by one of our science teachers - singing  his own songs with guitar.  It was standing room only at both performances and a joy to watch and listen to. This new 'habit' of "Music on Mondays", a brief, fifteen minutes of music, that I am endeavouring to establish is starting to catch on and I am really excited about that. Unfortunately the only photo I took was absolute rubbish.  Oh well. 
As it turns out, I was saved by Mother Nature who decided to paint the sunset sky in the most  impossibly pink and purple and yellow and orange stripes - as seen here through the trees from my bedroom window.  Don't get too many of those, so thank you ma'am.