Indian Gap in the Blue Ridge Mountains is a place I can easily walk to from my home and I do so often. Morels grow there in the spring; and the trail depicted follows a cascading stream that is fed and increased by multiple springs that start at the mountain’s top. Despite it’s ready accessibility few people walk there; it is part of the George Washington National Forest and most spend their time on the well marked trails that veer away from this area.
I could go there with my dog, Max and allow him the special treat of going on without the hindrance of a lead. I had gotten Max from a kennel in Florida; and he never quite got over the mystery of snow. Despite many, many winters here and his old age he was still like a puppy when it was on the ground. Shortly after a last frolic there when snow had fallen, Max suddenly succumbed to his years. The painting which was done shortly following his death when the mysterious snow hid the raw earth of his grave, is of our trail with his footprints going on ahead. It is a tribute to him; and though he is absent here and in the painting it is his portrait nevertheless.
Watercolor on paper, Arches 300# HP