Clear skies, sunsets, the smell of a campfire. My bed sheets and my car is full of sand. Our skin remains sun-kissed from long days spent outside at the beach. I pull out my plein air box to paint a sailboat passing by as my children play in the sprinkler beside me. I am mixing colors, and stopping for popsicle breaks. My children bring me flowers, and bugs, and beg to go fishing. Their hands are sticky and we rinse them in the cool lake. What a wonderful season summer is...
Growing up, seashells were always my treasures.... I measured the quality of my summer by how many times I went to the beach and the quality of my beach trip by how long I was able to spend walking the beach in search of the perfect shell for that day.