One Chalk-Blue Indian Summer Day – Sunset, Monday, 24 November 2014

William Van Doren, ONE CHALK-BLUE INDIAN SUMMER DAY. Sunset from Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va. Oil on canvas, 24 x 30.

Indian Summer Premiere (Sunset, Saturday, 23 October 2010)

William Van Doren, INDIAN SUMMER PREMIERE (Sunset from Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va.) Oil on watercolor block, 13 x 19.

Columbian Summer (Sunset, Tuesday, 12 October 2010)

William Van Doren, COLUMBIAN SUMMER (Sunset from Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va.) Oil on watercolor block, 13 x 19.

I’ve been thinking about the sunrise, actually, on the 12th of October, 1492, at Samana Cay, now thought to be the first place Columbus landed. What a bittersweet moment, the last sunrise of pre-European America. I’m not wild about the concept of ‘Columbian’ anything, but ... here we are.

PreColumbian Summer (Sunset, Saturday, 9 October 2010)

William Van Doren, PRECOLUMBIAN SUMMER (Sunset from Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va.) Oil on watercolor block, 13 x 19.

A third day of warmth added rose, smoke and absinthe to the palette. We haven’t had a frost yet, and therefore can’t call this Indian Summer, so the title is a sort of reverse compliment to the upcoming holiday.

October and Smoke (Sunset, Friday, 1 October 2010)

William Van Doren, OCTOBER AND SMOKE (Sunset from Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va.) Oil on watercolor block, 13 x 19.

In fact it’s not smoke (I’m pretty sure, after two days of heavy rain), but the haze in an otherwise clear sky looked like distant fire and seemed to promise Indian Summer to come.

Sunset, Monday, 16 November 2009

William Theodore Van Doren. Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va. Oil on paper, 16 x 20.

Now we have our second straight day of Indian Summer, with trees half bare and the strange combination of warmth and horizontal sunlight crashing through the woods. In entire fields of blown-out goldenrod, the sun makes blinding coronas behind tall flourishes of white filament. I know there’s no photosynthesis going on, the goldenrod’s dry stalks and curled leaves are dust gray, but I also don’t believe anything is wasted in nature, including this light. I suspect photosynthesis of a different order, in which any light we admit into ourselves, like any degree of light or love we may be able to give, is gathered and grows even beyond our natural lives.