February Morning

This painting is from an image of a really cold February morning at a farm in Upperville, VA.  I was out walking before sunrise and was struck by the absolute still frozen air and the spectacular colors of a winter sunrise.  I tried to capture the light that sort of floats on the darkness as the sun peaks over the distant trees and to keep the values and color of the foreground snow correct for this time of day.  The poem is my interpretation of the effect of the cold as I walked in the field.

February morning

Cold as a body search

A bright sliver of Alizarin rose, wedged

between dark and dawn

A whisper of the rising sun

Warm colors leaking slowly into black

As they push away the night

Like crystal goblets shards of light

I hear my boots, crunching,

falling slow

breaking patches of crusty snow,

Walking into stillness,

A dusting of silver frost

Breathing air so solid it bites

Stocking cap pulled down tight

Every breath blue vapor clouds

Ears and nose brittle red and raw

Stepping along I hear my steps,

cracking weeds like broken glass

On the wind, smells

Of early morning warming fires

Bacon and grits on the hearth

Sounds of horses rising

A murder of crows cawing

Blue black morning

Frozen air