You can still see the fences and pastures of the old pioneer farms that settled Big Valley years ago. As I drove up the road winding through the valley, my eye was caught by this old shed nestled against the woods above the pasture, and by the blazing orange of the bigleaf maple tree next to the dark fir tree.
It’s hard to find a place to park along Big Valley Road, but I managed to pull over safely and walk back to this pasture. I set up my easel in the shade of the trees to the left and began to paint. A pleasant elderly woman came out from the house next door and admired my painting. “I hope it’s all right if I paint here,” I said. “Oh, heavens, yes,” she said.
When I got home, I made a studio version of the same scene, making sure to show how the field slants upward. Somehow I lost that in the plein air version.
