Landscapes are so much more than just scenery. They can include whole biosystems: the plants, animals and other creatures that live there. They are nature, writ large. They show their bones and their history.
Don’t forget the geology of your chosen area: What formed the landscape you see? An inland sea once covered the land of my home state. When the sea receded, it left behind limestone bluffs and a myriad of fossils.
Still later in prehistory—a mere 10,000+ years ago—my home state was partly covered by a glacier, creating loess bluffs. These bluffs changed the course of rivers, leaving behind a scattering of pinkish granite rocks and boulders, known as glacial erratics, that began their journey hundreds of miles to the north, pushed along by that wall of ice. Today we see these travelers, large and small, in fields, yards and gardens.
Jan Blencowe caught river otters at play and managed to capture several sketches of these beautiful animals. Notice she also included a habitat sketch and made notes of her observations.
Vicky Williamson just moved to a log cabin in a new state and is getting to see and draw the flora and fauna she hadn’t seen before.
One of the largest glacial boulders in my area is near what is now Smithville Lake. The boulder was, no doubt, a landmark for indigenous people for hundreds of years. I have one of its siblings in the little rock garden at my shed.
What makes your area unique and what formed it? That’s a question I often ask when I travel, as well. Where you live, there may be mountains rucked up by settling plates deep inside the earth, ancient eroded cliffs of sandstone, level plains and so many more hidden tidbits!
Ask yourself questions: How did this land get this way, and why is it so different from home? What grows here, and why? Few realize that specific types of soils affect plant growth in many different ways, as does the amount of rainfall.
Australian artist Liz Steel captured the rough slumped earth of the famous Mount St. Helen’s face after the volcanic eruption in 1980. Working quickly in ink and watercolor, she clearly captured the details of the collapsed cone.
Liz keeps it fairly simple when she works on the spot, finding a place to sit wherever she is. As mentioned earlier, her research and trip planning prepares her for virtually anything!
One year, I did a landscape in Maine and a landscape in Nevada, and the two couldn’t have been more different. Both were beautiful and challenging, but not even distant cousins.
Different areas may require adjusting your working methods as well as the colors you choose. Your materials will respond to the change in humidity and temperature. Be prepared, and you’ll still be happy with your results.
These woods upper New York state were incredibly lush. I wandered off into the forest away from the camp and sketched to my heart’s content. I’d been feeling rather overwhelmed, and journaling in the woods was just what I needed. All that silent green!
Sitting on the side of a hill in Nevada’s Red Rock Canyon, I did the initial drawing with ink as a guideline. This let me slap in the watercolor washes quickly before they dried up.