Song
When I lived in a house in the woods, the most beautiful sound
I would hear was the flute-like song of the wood thrush.
Henry David Thoreau wrote, "The thrush alone declares the immortal wealth and vigor that is in the forest. Here is a bird in whose strain the story is told... Whenever a man hears it he is young, and Nature is in her spring; whenever he hears it, it is a new world and a free country,
and the gates of heaven are not shut against him."
You can listen to the thrush's song here
Acrylic paint on an 8 x 8 inch board.
I would hear was the flute-like song of the wood thrush.
Henry David Thoreau wrote, "The thrush alone declares the immortal wealth and vigor that is in the forest. Here is a bird in whose strain the story is told... Whenever a man hears it he is young, and Nature is in her spring; whenever he hears it, it is a new world and a free country,
and the gates of heaven are not shut against him."
You can listen to the thrush's song here
Acrylic paint on an 8 x 8 inch board.