This is a plein air painting composed in Milbridge, a small fishing town in Downeast Maine. It was very cold, and the snow was almost three feet deep. I trudged through the woods with my gear in tow, and dug out a spot to set up.
I stood, facing the woods, on the edge of a small maritime cemetery. The shallow winter light penetrated the evergreen and birch forest, drawing seemingly endless shadows on the snows surface.
Partially buried is a stone wall consisting of haphazardly piled granite boulders, clearly preceding the trees surrounding it. Local lobster fishermen tell me that the wall was the property line for a hotel that also functioned as a brothel.