Recently I spent time on Quesnel Lake, an inland fjord in central British Columbia, Canada. The cabin we stayed in is remote; the only access is by boat. I’d been wanting do some larger watercolors outdoors, so I packed a dozen 15” x 11” (38 x 28cm) sheets of paper and some larger brushes along with a collapsible easel and camp stool. And because it is bear country, a whistle and a can of bear spray. And because I had a cold, a box of kleenex.

It rained.

Most days.

A lot.

So I put on my rain regalia, strapped on my backpack, and headed out into the beautiful wet. I used one big umbrella to sort of shelter the easel, and another to sort of shelter my paint box (and the kleenex…), and I relied on my rain clothes to sort of shelter me.

The mist brooded over the mountains as the rain and I painted together. The colors bled and blended, splotched and spread. The rain was not an impediment so much as it was a participant. I felt thrillingly alive. Nothing is so enlivening for me as painting in nature, with Nature looking back at me…and even getting her own hand in!