We have an abundant depth to our snow cover here.  I was surprised to find just how far up the snow came up my legs ( and into my boots, might I add ) as I positioned myself for this painting.  It's all worth it in my way of thinking.  I seem to find myself skirting dangerously close to frigid moving water in the pursuit of just the right angle all too often.  Up one side, then back down stream, through brush and briers, ducking low hanging branches.  I visually frame the scene, consider my footing...test to check..mmh, am I on the bank, or cantilevered like a Frank Lloyd Wright architectural element just above the stream?  Then I set up.  Mumble about the fact that a mini chain saw would be nice to remove that last bit of annoying dead tree just ahead, and finally jump into my work.

This procedure is repeated with  regularity, somehow ensuring me that I have put the proper effort into finding just the right spot before I begin.  Of course after finishing and packing my things, a viewpoint just ten or fifteen feet from that very spot proves to be.... THE SPOT.

That's why there's tomorrow.