The Bluff Road, Winter

"The Bluff Road, Winter", oil, 6 x 6", © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

“The Bluff Road, Winter”, oil, 6 x 6″, © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

$325 (unframed) + $10 shipping and handling


So many Southern towns and areas have a river road, the old road, the main connector when so much of the commercial traffic was through the commerce that took place up and down the river.

This is Bluff Road, the old river road for Columbia, SC.

It amazes me how few people in the area know the history and story of this road.

But that’s the cultural impact of the road…more immediately I am fascinated with the rises and dips that a part of the road.

Is there a river road in your time?

Minervaville, Winter Sunset

"Minervaville, Winter Sunset", oil, 6 x 8", © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

“Minervaville, Winter Sunset”, oil, 6 x 8″, © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

$475 (unframed) + $15 shipping and handling


More than three days in a row with lots of sunlight! I’m giddy!! Winter sunsets are spectacular playing out over the big sky of the lower part of the county.

The cotton fields are just mown stalks by this time of year but they leave a mauve pattern of lines across the fields where the plants grew.

And when the day has been warmer, as it has been this week, a mist rises in the evening when the air temp suddenly drops, leaving creeping fingers of fog over the open land.

Deep Winter Light

"Deep Winter Light", oil, 6 x 6", © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

“Deep Winter Light”, oil, 6 x 6″, © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

$325 (unframed) + $10 shipping and handling

The last light in winter sky is frequently the color of the inside of a ripe mango or peach. That color appears because of the angle of winter light, a gift during the grey months.

That orange glow sets off the limited foliage in the hedgerows, making it appear a deep purple.

Days End, Winter

"Days End, Winter", oil, 6 x 6", © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

“Days End, Winter”, oil, 6 x 6″, © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

$325 (unframed) + $10 shipping and handling
Looking west down a small country lane just as the sun drops below the trees. The last rays warm the small areas near the horizon while the foreground descends into deep shadow. There’s something about the last light of the day that makes it that much sweeter. Especially when we’ve had so many long grey monotones for days.

Tree Islands, Winter

"Tree Islands, Winter", oil, 5 x 5", © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

“Tree Islands, Winter”, oil, 5 x 5″, © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

$235 (unframed) + $10 shipping and handling

Fields here in the Deep South meander and wander along the lines of the landscape’s topography, leaving an irregular edge that butts up against the adjacent wooded areas.

What I call “tree islands” are the small wooded sections that either partially or all together are surrounded by the fields, little peninsulas of woods that interject into the open spaces.

This one is a long, narrow section of low woods that sticks out into the middle of a large 20-30 acre flat field. That narrow strip breaks up the light passing across the field.

 

Elm Savannah Pines

"Elm Savannah Pines”, oil, 6 x 4″, © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

“Elm Savannah Pines”, oil, 6 x 4″, © Mary Bentz Gilkerson

$235 + $10 shipping and handling

Coming around the bend on this small country road in the late afternoon (when there’s sun) you’re greeted by a burst of light falling across the pines on the edge of the road.

The slight rise that passes for a hill in this low, flat landscape makes the tall pines appear even taller.

Pines are one of two trees that say home to me, the other being the coastal palmetto. And my strongest association with them isn’t initially visual. It’s the sound of the wind in them.

Pines sing and whoosh as the air moves across their thousands of needles. Palmettos click and clutter in a strong ocean breeze. Both take me back to childhood, listening to the sound of the wind in the trees at nap time or bed time.

Trees can mark our geography, our patterns of place in very fundamental ways.