I’ve never paid more attention to weather reports than when traveling thousands of miles to paint. In eleven days, the gods have been more than good to us. Today and tomorrow have been promising rain at last, but when I awoke to sun, I donned my rosy colored glasses.
It wasn’t a particularly early rise, but early enough for us to get to the edge of town for a sweaty painting session overlooking a small valley. As Grif finished and packed his bag, the clouds moved in and by the time we’d made our way to Dome, it was sprinkling.
Dome has been on my visit list for some years. It’s one of the fifteen plus beaux village en France in this region. So it’s pretty beautiful, even by French standards. The town’s medieval walls and gates perch on a high precipice over the Dordogne River. Although we dodged raindrops most of our time there, we had the unexpected treat of a French brocante fair – a really nice flea market. I caved for a set of lovely parisian bone handled knives(Why do I most always buy knives, forks or spoons in France?) and a lovely 1890’s watercolor by a well-known regional artist, Charles Lobbedez.
The rain stopped long enough for us to paint at the river after lunch then wend our way home, gawking at the chateaux perching over every rocky cliff. It’s early evening now and the drizzle continues to mesmerize us. As I sip the local rosé, it dawns on me that I haven’t shared any paintings yet. Oops!
And Griffin’s success of the day…