By The Shore OF Rio Grande River In Winter

I pulled over just before the Alameda bridge and wandered down by the river with my camera. The dry, cracked earth immediately caught my eye—like a quiet reminder of the season’s stillness. I loved how the brittle grasses leaned into the wind, and the soft golden light lit up the brush in the distance. It was winter, but there was warmth in the way the land held onto its color. I had to paint it.