In mid-September I was out painting an old falling down house in the Rosebud River Valley a little ways west of Rosebud. As I was packing up my gear I turned and saw the sun dropping low over the valley. All the smoke haze coloured the sun an astonishing red. I didn’t have my good camera but managed a couple cell phone shots. First thought I had was the line “blood red and going down”. When I described the scene to Lawrence later that evening he said that song was playing on all the radio stations the summer his dad died and it always reminds him of listening to the radio when friends drove him and his brother to Alberta for the funeral.
In mid-September I was out painting an old falling down house in the Rosebud River Valley a little ways west of Rosebud. As I was packing up my gear I turned and saw the sun dropping low over the valley. All the smoke haze coloured the sun an astonishing red. I didn’t have my good camera but managed a couple cell phone shots. First thought I had was the line “blood red and going down”. When I described the scene to Lawrence later that evening he said that song was playing on all the radio stations the summer his dad died and it always reminds him of listening to the radio when friends drove him and his brother to Alberta for the funeral.