In September of 2003, during the darkest night in my memory, our home found itself squarely in the path of Hurricane Juan. In our yard, the top half of a towering spruce tree that had been home to a nest of crows was snapped off. An aged maple toppled in the driveway.
Our oldest willow tree lost several major limbs and appeared to be damaged beyond repair. For weeks we deliberated whether or not to cut it down. In the end we didn't, and now it has re-grown to the point where the damage is no longer evident.
Sometimes it takes even more than a hurricane to fell a tree.
By painting trees, I like to think that I am affirming their right to exist. These are just some of the threads that run through my Trees paintings, much like the roots that nurture these great plants.