GLOOMS of the live-oaks, beautiful-braided and woven
With intricate shades of the vines that myriad-cloven
Clamber the forks of the multiform boughs,—
Emerald twilights,—
Virginal shy lights,
Wrought of the leaves to allure to the whisper of vows,
When lovers pace timidly down through the green colonnades
Of the dim sweet woods, of the dear dark woods,
Of the heavenly woods and glades,
That run to the radiant marginal sand-beach within
The wide sea-marshes of Glynn

Thus begins the poem The Marshes of Glynn written by Sidney Lanier under the 'boughs' of this tree in Brunswick, Georgia. Still standing it is a lone survivor of adjacent highway projects and shopping centers and no longer is there a small creek adjacent long since filled and paved over. But stand it does and my painting today is taken from a photograph done in the early 1900's not long after the poem was written.

This is a subject I intend to paint many times again. Capturing a live oak (and you see I've tried painting two shown here on my blog) is an interesting exercise. Trying to understand how a tree often 300-500 years old must be painted is really about trying to fathom time. How do you effectively paint time? How do you show the impacts of time on the trunk, limbs and form of the tree? How did the environment affect its form and how can I show that?

The tree in this painting shows the pruning effect of wind blowing from the ocean across the vast salt marsh shown on the left. Painting it made me realize that underneath the canopy almost no light emerges, the trunk seems black when in reality it's a warm grey color. Ephemeral Spanish moss hangs from the branches and small Resurrection Ferns capture what little light is left from atop each branch. Yet below you see a vast panoply of native plants from the titi bush to waxmyrtles and Red Bay trees. And of course the vast salt marsh with its olive green color fading to a rich golden brown in winter.