I was inspired to do something for Illustration Friday this week by my little online critique group. These girls had done such stunning illustrations, I just had to join in. To see if I could come up with something pleasing for myself. I decided to paint fast and freely, using broad strokes and wet paper, rather than my usual 000 watercolor brushes. The entire process was almost completely wet-on-wet, which allowed me to get that soft-focus on the background.
The subject matter is a Yellow Crowned Night Heron, whom I photographed 3 years ago. I used to spend entire summers photographing these birds from the vantage point of my in-laws’ shore house in Avalon, NJ. A flock of these giant birds took over the vacant property to the right of the house and their nests, or rookery, could be viewed from any west-facing window. I got to witness several families of herons grow together from egg-sitting to first flight (a very emotional experience, that first flight was. It is fodder for a great children’s book, and some day I will write it and paint it).
I haven’t been able to watch these birds so often since Maggie joined our family last year, because as a puppy Maggie had 10 too many “accidents” on her first visit to the shore house, and has since been banned. So I spend much more time beaglewatching than heronwatching. I’m happy to say that when I did visit the shore this year, new heron families abounded in the same nests they built years ago. They fly south in winter and return to the same rookery, some undoubtedly returning to the same tree where they were born, only to choose a new one to build their first nest in. You can tell who the rookies are in nestbuilding–the senior herons’ are stronger and more fortified than those who are new at parenting.
I chose to paint one of these herons for “Tranquil” because when I watch birds, that is how I feel. And this particular heron sat on this tree top for an hour or so, surveying the bay waters before him at sunset. From time to time he would scratch his neck with his toe, or preen his wings with his beak, all the while keeping a steady eye on me and my camera. In this shot he seemed to be dozing off a bit, his breast feathers rising and falling with his breath, a picture of tranquility.
I will miss the beach when I head out west, that is for certain. I will miss my birds.
