As the season changes the days are getting shorter and shorter. The horses are waiting by the pasture gate earlier and earlier. When they see a glimpse of me, I hear their nickers to be fed. Hay now please. The mountains that surround the valley bear the last color of the sun as it descends. There is only light at the top of the mountain and then the sun's glow slips away. Living in the valley has made for,
"A Painting Day".
"The Passing Sun" 8x8 inches, oil on canvas by Ruth Andre
