Printable Vintage Art: From the Road on the Way to Stinson Beach from Mill Valley by D. Howard Hitchcock

Midway along the journey of our life
I woke to find myself in a dark wood,
for I had wandered off from the straight path.

How hard it is to tell what it was like,
this wood of wilderness, savage and stubborn
(the thought of it brings back all my old fears),

a bitter place! Death could scarce be bitterer.
But if I would show the good that came of it
I must talk about things other than the good.
― Dante Alighieri

Their life is mysterious, it is like a forest; from far off it seems a unity, it can be comprehended, described, but closer it begins to separate, to break into light and shadow, the density blinds one. Within there is no form, only prodigious detail that reaches everywhere: exotic sounds, spills of sunlight, foliage, fallen trees, small beasts that flee at the sound of a twig-snap, insects, silence, flowers.

And all of this, dependent, closely woven, all of it is deceiving. There are really two kinds of life. There is, as Viri says, the one people believe you are living, and there is the other. It is this other which causes the trouble, this other we long to see.
― James Salter, Light Years

A vintage landscape painting of trees in a forest by David Howard Hitchcock (1861–1943) from 1910 entitled “From the Road on the Way to Stinson Beach from Mill Valley”; oiginally found on Wikimedia here. Digitally enhanced version can be downloaded as a 6” x 8” @ 300 ppi JPEGs here.


Digitally enhanced reproductions of public domain fine art are shared under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

Printable Vintage Art: Winter River Landscape by Adolf Kaufmann

There are such a lot of things that have no place in summer and autumn and spring. Everything that’s a little shy and a little rum. Some kinds of night animals and people that don’t fit in with others and that nobody really believes in. They keep out of the way all the year. And then when everything’s quiet and white and the nights are long and most people are asleep—then they appear.
― Tove Jansson, Moominland Midwinter

But now she loved winter. Winter was beautiful “up back” - almost intolerably beautiful. Days of clear brilliance. Evenings that were like cups of glamour - the purest vintage of winter's wine. Nights with their fire of stars. Cold, exquisite winter sunrises. Lovely ferns of ice all over the windows of the Blue Castle. Moonlight on birches in a silver thaw. Ragged shadows on windy evenings - torn, twisted, fantastic shadows. Great silences, austere and searching. Jewelled, barbaric hills. The sun suddenly breaking through grey clouds over long, white Mistawis. Ice-grey twilights, broken by snow-squalls, when their cosy living-room, with its goblins of firelight and inscrutable cats, seemed cosier than ever. Every hour brought a new revalation and wonder.
― L.M. Montgomery, The Blue Castle

A vintage landscape painting by Adolf Kaufmann (1848–1916) entitled “Winter River Landscape”; oiginally found on Wikimedia here. Digitally enhanced version can be downloaded as a 14” x 11” @ 300 ppi JPEGs here.


Digitally enhanced reproductions of public domain fine art are shared under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

My Photo Journal: January Cold (1)

“January”

The days are short, / The sun a spark
Hung thin between / The dark and dark.

Fat snowy footsteps / Track the floor,
And parkas pile up / Near the door.

The river is / A frozen place
Held still beneath / The trees' black lace.

The sky is low. / The wind is gray.
The radiator / Purrs all day.
― John Updike, A Child's Calendar

It is growing cold. Winter is putting footsteps in the meadow. What whiteness boasts that sun that comes into this wood! One would say milk-colored maidens are dancing on the petals of orchids. How coldly burns our sun! One would say its rays of light are shards of snow, one imagines the sun lives upon a snow crested peak on this day. One would say she is a woman who wears a gown of winter frost that blinds the eyes. Helplessness has weakened me. Wandering has wearied my legs.
― Roman Payne

Image shows a winter-bare tree standing in a field of snow-draped goldenrod and other native vegetation, their wild beauty unbowed by harsh winds or icy cold. I took the photo on a walk around the Civic Recreation Complex in Whitby, Ontario. Are you still going out and about despite the inclement weather? Or have you decided to cocoon at home until spring returns? Leave a comment below to tell us how you're handling January.
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