Rhododendron and Mountain Laurel in Hidden Places
There are certain places along the lake that I’m always watching for. Not the open water, not the obvious views—but the edges. The coves where the banks fold in a little tighter, where the light doesn’t hit all at once, and everything feels just a little more still. I have always loved Mountain Laurel and Rhododendron. Finding old-growth coves is my favorite. The air is different, time slows down, and when the light peeks in, it feels downright magical. 🪄
Those are the places I tend to drift toward, even when we’re supposed to be fishing. There’s something about the way these plants grow—layered, reaching out over the water, holding onto the banks. They create their own kind of space. The light filters through differently there. The water picks it up and reflects it back in pieces—greens, golds, deep blue underneath.
It never feels flat. It never feels like just one color. And the longer you sit there, the more you start to notice - a shift in the surface … a reflection that wasn’t there a minute ago. The way the color deepens where the water gets just a little deeper.
These five pieces came from those kinds of places.
Not one specific location, but a collection of moments—tucked-in coves, old growth along the banks, water that clears out and settles just enough to let you see into it.
They’re quieter than some of the other work I’ve been doing, but in a way, they feel more true to how I experience the lake. Not as a single view, but as something you move through. Something you notice slowly.
If you’ve spent time on the water, you probably know the kind of place I mean. The one you don’t always point out, but you remember.
That’s what this series is built from. Some of these are now available as ready-to-hang canvas pieces, and I’ll keep adding more as I work through the collection.
