When I first heard of this small pond, I never imagined how overgrown and impassable would be its edges, except for one access point. And it's in eastern Massachusetts in a fairly well-developed area. While quietly painting yesterday at the pond, I witnessed numerous splashes, sources unknown to me, and a muskrat crossing over from one side to other. There's an old beaver lodge on the opposite shore, but all the dropped trees and chewed stumps are not recent. 9x12 inches, oil on linen; 9x12 inches, pencil on paper.
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