Sometimes the late afternoon, or early morning, shadows in my woods really define the trail. As I clear my trail over the years it almost seems to sink into the forest floor. More leaves and pine needles fall, they get pushed aside, and the beaten trail sinks more. The way the shadows curve up and down to follow their contours catches my eye. One perfectly delightful day I decided seeing them was not enough so I hauled my easel up the hill, plopped it down, and drew them.