The Wisconsin marshes in autumn are a canvas of deep russet, gold, and sienna, their warm hues standing in striking contrast to the brilliant white of tundra swans as they move through the landscape. Along the Mississippi Flyway, these elegant birds arrive in great numbers, their journey from the Arctic bringing them to the quiet waters where they rest and feed before continuing south.

The air is crisp, the kind that bites at fingertips and lingers in the breath. But the cold is forgotten in the presence of the swans. Their movements are graceful, their calls echoing across the marshes, a sound both haunting and beautiful. Watching them come and go, their wings catching the light, their reflections shimmering on the water, is a moment that stays with me long after they have passed.

Observing the tundra swans in migration has been a source of endless inspiration for my paintings. Their form, their elegance, the way they interact with the landscape—it all speaks to the delicate balance of nature, the quiet beauty of seasonal change. Each brushstroke is an attempt to capture that fleeting moment, to preserve the feeling of standing in the marshes, watching them move through the golden autumn light.
The tundra swans remind me of the enduring rhythms of the wild, the cycles that continue year after year, shaping the land and those who take the time to witness them.