Like Pedaling Through a Painting

My commute over the past two weeks has been nothing short of spectacular. I can leave the raingear at home. Stellar skies greet me, often streaked with pale clouds like an artist's brush dipped in watered white paint and brushed on cerulean skies. Morning skies can be cloudless too, with vibrant autumn colors, and long shadows. It reminds me of Sabra Field block prints.

In the late afternoon, textures abound, in sky, trees, grasses, and bike path. The scene resembles grainy, 1960's photographs used in Vermont Life calendars, or an ubiquitous foliage photograph printed on a cheesy 500-piece puzzle. The clarity and detail seems too good to be true.

These last two remind me of Charles Heyde oil paintings. Humid air pinks the landscape right before the last rays of light slide behind the Adirondack Mountains.