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Lincoln Chapel, Millmont, oil on canvas. Details here. 

I spent Memorial Day painting at the west end of Union County, a place where mountain ridges come together, farmland ends and forest begins. The source of Penns Creek is just a little further west and the creek flows along and beneath the mountain range that dominates the southern horizon.

Looking west there’s a little white church, the Lincoln Chapel, that sits on the top of a hill with its copper-colored steeple pointing to the clouds. I had painted it in the fall two years ago and couldn't resist painting it again. A bit later, the owner of the farm whose field is in the foreground of the painting stopped by and we talked about the land. He mentioned his son farms on the other side of the road. He knows the area well.

While painting the church, out of the corner of my eye I noticed rows of sparkling green in the fields. I noticed they lead to a farmhouse which was dwarfed by a dramatic mountain, "Jack's Mountain." I couldn't drive away from that sight, so I took a coffee break and got out the sketchbook to find the right composition.

As I started to paint, some friendly people pulled over and stopped to talk. It turns out they lived in the farmhouse and it was their dad I had met earlier.  

I exclaimed (but they already knew) how lucky they are to live in this spot.

Mountain Home, oil painting, details here. 

Sharing a common appreciation of beauty gave this day meaning beyond the paintings themselves.