I got lost, but look at what I found...

My husband and I moved to central Pennsylvania just over four years ago. Since that time, I've had a lot to learn about where to go when I want to paint out in the field. Each season, I add to my "mental Rolodex" of places....Go here when the sun is bright, go there when the clouds are dramatic, etc. But in order to learn about new places, I play a bit of a perverse game: I intentionally try to get lost while out traversing the rural roads of this area. I almost never succeed. I think my artistic sensibility has cursed / blessed me with a great sense of direction and a good recollection of landmarks.

From Cherokee Lane12 x 24 pastel on board.

But the evening when I caught this view for "From Cherokee Lane" was different. I did indeed get lost. Although I didn't even realize it until after I was done painting that night and I was ready to head home, just as the sun was setting and darkness was arriving. I had crossed into Mifflin County from neighboring Huntingdon County and I stumbled upon this beautiful vista just by chance. I don't even think that I could find my way back here since it was just a small gravel lane in the midst of hundreds of acres of farm country.

My first clue should have come when the owners of the property pictured here approached me while I was working. I was racing the fading daylight and while I tried to be polite and conversant with them, I overlooked a valuable tidbit that they shared while talking to me, "Gosh, we don't get many people up here. Most people who end up 'round here are lost, couldn't find their way around the detour in town."

"Uh-huh," I nodded while trying to add a dash of pink to the undersides of the clouds.

They departed on their way into "town" (wherever that was) and I wrapped up shortly thereafter.

And then the real fun began.

I was supremely confident that I knew how to get back to highway 322, the main highway that crosses central Pennsylvania and leads back home. Wrong. The nearby town had a major construction project underway and the main bridge that would have perhaps gotten me on my way home was out. I followed the detour and then ended up seeing road signs for communities whose names I didn't even recognize. Annoyed and growing more concerned about the impending darkness (I'm not afraid of the dark, but I am afraid of deer on rural roads at twilight), I had to pull a U-turn and head back to the local gas station for assistance.

"Wow! You ARE lost!" exclaimed the customer behind me when I asked the clerk for directions back to State College.

Gee, thanks, I needed that.

Thanks to the assistance of the clerk, I eventually found my way back to highway 322 and was safely on my way by the time total darkness descended.

Nonetheless, I still have fond memories of working on the study for this piece. I may polish up the study and frame it as well, but my favorite part of that night was listening to the "clip clop" of the horses as they passed, towing the Amish carts along the narrow country lanes.