So much for the big blue umbrella. Sunday evening, it filled with towering storm clouds. The only creatures interested in my painting were a couple chiggers crawling around on the canvas, between blue lines. Their cousins were busy sucking my blood. Suddenly the heavy heat broke, and I scrambled to pack up. The canvas bucked so hard in the wind, I could hardly wrestle it to the car. I hoped my easel wouldn't act as a lightning rod. Big fat drops pelted the windshield on the way home.
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| the sky |
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| the lake |
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