Rialto Bridge

Oil painting of the Rialto Bridge with a gondola in the foreground
Rialto Bridge

This morning the earth whispered “spring is here” in my cats’ ears, I have two. They stretched and yawned; “but it is going to rain” they replied sleepily.

“Who is in charge?” asked the earth, “wake her up, she has a painting to finish.” “Ok” muttered one cat who gently bit my nose until I moved.

The air was cold still, heavy with the dreams of winter, as I crawled to my table under the loggia . Beneath my feet the earth smiled.
“Wait and see” she sang as the sun came up: Colours shone in the freshness of the morning light. The sunlight poured magic into the paint as it spread across the canvas. “Now you can paint pink trees and leave Venice to others.” Finally I am done with the Rialto bridge. Now I will sit and listen to the birds, in the land where the rain has stopped .