In the Beatles’ words, “There are places I remember.” This spot is one of those for me. My wife and I often wander to the Eastern Promenade in Portland, following a steep path down to the waterfront. But on this particular day, we were both struck silent by the beauty before us: Casco Bay framed by a single magnificent tree, its garden lush and vibrant. Time seemed to pause.
I set up my watercolors, drawn to the scene’s quiet power, while my wife settled with a book. In that moment, awe and comfort intertwined. The sketches I made there became this painting—a meditation on stillness, the restorative power of nature, and the fleeting moments that remind us of beauty in a chaotic world.
Owning this painting is like capturing a breath of peace, a private glimpse of a Garden of Eden overlooking Casco Bay—a place where time slows, and the spirit is refreshed.
In the Beatles’ words, “There are places I remember.” This spot is one of those for me. My wife and I often wander to the Eastern Promenade in Portland, following a steep path down to the waterfront. But on this particular day, we were both struck silent by the beauty before us: Casco Bay framed by a single magnificent tree, its garden lush and vibrant. Time seemed to pause.
I set up my watercolors, drawn to the scene’s quiet power, while my wife settled with a book. In that moment, awe and comfort intertwined. The sketches I made there became this painting—a meditation on stillness, the restorative power of nature, and the fleeting moments that remind us of beauty in a chaotic world.
Owning this painting is like capturing a breath of peace, a private glimpse of a Garden of Eden overlooking Casco Bay—a place where time slows, and the spirit is refreshed.
