12 November, 2016. Chancing upon a gravel road, I pedaled that path to see where it led, round tight corners bordering Missouri River bluffs and through farmlands pretty and cozy and nestled and hidden. Between fields I rode, flanked by ponds and streams; horses, livestock, and waterfowl were my neighbors, and one cowboy rehearsing with a lariat, a young steer his understudy. Up and over very steep hills, I climbed and panted; my breathing at times labored as my wheels reached each summit. And yet the November air brought forth a growing chill in the waning afternoon light.
I was traveling light, a sketchbook and pen and lead holder my only tools. The colors, though, were wonderful and I regret not bringing along watercolor. (Rural Clay County, Missouri; Kuretake No. 40 brush pen)