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Tag: Beech Hill

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Early Spring on Beech Hill

Early Spring on Beech Hill, oil on canvasboard, Carol L. Douglas, 12X16, $1449 framed includes shipping in continental US.

I climb up Beech Hill every day when I’m at home. It’s not very tall, just 533 feet above sea level, but that is set against the fact that I’m starting at 87 feet above sea level. I like this hike better in the summer, when warm breezes caress my face. I can watch the to-and-fro of sailboats from Rockland harbor and the margins of the blueberry barrens are a panoply of wildflowers. Midwinter isn’t quite as nice, although it is largely free of casual amblers. For the past two days it’s been cold and blustery, with gusts up to 45 MPH.

The path is somewhat protected until you come around the hill to the final rise and there, you’re almost blown off your feet. That’s an improvement over some winters, when the wind has sculpted hip-high drifts with the consistency of concrete.

The other approach to Beech Hill is somewhat steeper.

On a glorious summer morning we will amble but these frigid winter temperatures make us hurry. We’re also in training to ramble in the Yorkshire Dales in May. Our best times for the 4.5-mile hike are just scant of 1:30:00; after that I must break into a jog-trot on the downhill slopes. However, yesterday we brought it in at 1:29:23. You might not be impressed, but that’s not bad for two senior citizens wearing crampons and skidding on ice. Excuse our short victory dance.

I have many friendships that begin and end on that trail. We might stop and chat or just call out “good morning” as we sail by, but this time of year, the only people who are hiking are the true stalwarts. Yesterday, I saw Candace Kuchinski from the windjammer Angelique. She was out with her dog Nicki. “I have a painting of your boat on my easel,” I told her. I love living in a small town.

Beautiful summer day on Beech Hill.

People who don’t live in the north don’t realize how much color there is in a winter’s day, especially at the tail end of the season. The plants start to respond to the longer days and warmer sunlight. Early Spring, Beech Hill is all about that subtle color.

The sod-roofed stone hut at the top was built in 1913-15 by Hans Heisted, a Norwegian immigrant. It was an American-style folly, designed for summer picnics for a wealthy local family. (When the trees are bare, you can just make out a stone well house in the same style on the south slope, but don’t wander down there-that part of the woods is home to porcupines and coyotes.) Its verandah faces the sea, and the short version is a popular tourist hike in summer. In early morning, in early spring, all creation is laid out below you. But my favorite view of it is as you come around the bend and see it peeking over the blueberry barrens, just as I painted it.

Beech Nut in the fog.

Today, Beech Hill Preserve is managed by Coastal Mountains Land Trust, making it accessible to all.

Reserve your spot now for a workshop in 2025:

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Pride goeth before a fall

Early Spring on Beech Hill, oil on canvasboard, Carol L. Douglas, 12X16, $1449 framed includes shipping in continental US.

On our way to Erickson Fields, my husband exclaimed, “We forgot our cleats! Should I go back?” I’d walked our usual 4.5-mile hill trek on Sunday and it wasn’t terrible. Besides, I was in a hurry.

The trails that converge on the top of Beech Hill are very popular. In the summer, that means you go as early as possible. In winter, foot traffic polishes the trails to a glossy finish. It was especially bad Monday morning; I’d made the wrong choice.

Athabasca Glacier, 14X18, oil on linen, $1275 includes shipping and handling in the continental US.

“It’s like walking on the Columbia Icefield, but worse,” I grumbled. But I’m an experienced old bird, and I carefully picked my way to the top.

“I managed to not fall,” I said gleefully as we crossed back into Erickson Fields. “In fact, I haven’t fallen one time this whole year.” Which was stupid, since it’s always the downhill slope that gets you. Sure enough, a second later I was flat on my back on the ice. To add insult to injury, I did it a second time. That kind of pain takes a day to kick in but 48 hours later, everything hurts, including my fingernails.

I had a very tight schedule. I would work with Laura (my IT and PR person) until 2, take a break to paint woodwork until 4, and then set up a demo for my Zoom class on color bridges. We have new furniture coming for our guest room, and this house has never had the upstairs floors properly painted in its 125 years of existence. Thrifty New Englanders, they left the parts covered by area rugs as raw wood, with painted borders like monks’ tonsures.  I reckoned that if I did the woodwork on Monday, above the chair rail Tuesday night, below on Wednesday, and the floor on Thursday, I’d finish it just under my self-imposed deadline.

Mountain Path, oil on archival canvasboard, 11X14, $1087.00 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

“I can’t handle this pace,” I told myself, and then stopped and berated myself for being so negative. “Of course I can. I’m not tired and everything’s ticking along like clockwork.”

That’s when I got a message from a student in my new drawing class, which meets Mondays, 1-4. “I’ll be ready as soon as I get this cat off my lap,” she wrote.

“What?” I spluttered. “We don’t start until next week-do we?”

Turns out that the class, for which I’d done no marketing and no prep, did indeed start on Monday. Pride goeth before a fall, indeed.

Drawing is the bedrock on which painting rests, and if you can’t draw, you’ll have a hard time painting. I’m teaching this class because I need my painting students to be good draftsmen. I’ve got the four students I’d earmarked as needing it, but there’s still a lot of open space. If you think you’d benefit, I’m prorating the fee and making the video from Week 1 available, so you won’t miss anything. Our subjects are:

  • Basic measurement
  • Perspective
  • Volume and form
  • Drapery and clothing
  • Drawing the human face
  • Trees and rocks

You can register here.

Winter lambing, oil on linen, 30X40, $5072 framed, includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Critique

Before I forget, I’m also offering a four-week critique class starting on February 19. Your job is to paint during the week, and our mutual job is to analyzing our work based on the standard canon of design elements. This is not a touchy-feely class in any way; it’s meant to give you the tools to analyze your own paintings without falling victim to your emotions. I’ve taught this many times and my students have always been polite, enthusiastic and supportive, so there’s no reason to be nervous.

You can register here.

Reserve your spot now for a workshop in 2025: