What a summer this has been -- black flies in June, the Vermont floods in July, an August of cold and constant rain -- finally, starting Labor Day weekend, temperatures warm enough for a swim in the lake.  Luckily the gallery stays relatively comfortable through the highs and lows.   But usually by late September, it's time to take our studios down for the season and return them to our homes (Elizabeth in South Burlington, VT, Louisa in Concord, MA) for the winter.

One of the pleasures of the gallery are the times when Louisa and I are just out in the barn working on our respective art.  Sometimes in silence, sometimes with a visit (or four) from the gallery cats, sometimes listening to a podcast we want the other to experience.  I don't take these days for granted!  There is something wonderful about being creative together in a space filled with sunlight, looking out through the old glass windows to the "glade" of apple trees out back:

And this was the (unedited!) view from my deck next to the barn, in mid-August:

I'm grateful for the visual beauty we get to be surrounded by.  Vermont has been scarred by the flooding this summer, with trees ripped from the bank along the Lamoille, crop fields ruined, and the businesses and homes destroyed in towns like Calais and Hardwick and Montpelier.   The clean-up, repair and restoration will go on for months.  Greensboro is higher up, so except for some road washouts, it luckily didn't suffer long-term damage.  

The two faces of nature -- beauty and devastation -- have gone hand in hand in our lives this summer, along with the illness and deaths of people we care about, along with dear friends visiting and the joyful anticipation of a family wedding here in October.  As summer winds itself down, I try to remember to be grateful for the wonderful small moments we have been blessed with, for all who have entered our gallery this year, and those who have found a piece of us to take home with them.

peace and grace,

Elizabeth