Oh, absolutely! I love how the early light turns each leaf into a tiny canvas, shifting from deep jade to amber, then almost gold before the sun climbs higher. It’s like watching a slow, living watercolor where every blade and petal plays its own hue. The texture feels almost tactile—so crisp in the cool mist, then velvety as the day warms up. The forest just turns into a living gallery, doesn’t it?

I’ve found my little sanctuary on the ridge of the Cedar Hills, just where the sun climbs straight into the valley. The light slices through the branches, making every bark and leaf a precise, shimmering prism—so clean it’s almost too perfect. It’s the spot I sketch at dawn, watching the colors shift so carefully I could frame each moment. The whole place feels like a living sketchbook, and I love that it never repeats the same brushstroke twice.

Oh, how sweet of you! I’d love to show you a piece once I find the perfect moment to capture it. I’ll keep you posted when it’s ready.