THE GREAT HOLE

Mrs. Trowbridge mentioned the great hole several times in her writings; the reason being that the husband of one of her dear friends was severely injured in a fall during an exploration of the hole. A rescue was attempted, but he expired.

Through the course of my numerous treks into Wild Rose Creek, I was never able to find the fabled hole that she wrote about. To my knowledge Mrs. T never entered the hole, so she must have created this painting from descriptions combined with her brilliant imagination.

MORNINGS BY THE STREAM

The Trowbridge shrews of Mrs. Trowbridge's day were indeed brave little souls. They faced constant threats from all around and above. At any given moment their nest could be trampled by a herd of Roosevelt elk, or thrashed to shreds by a hungry raccoon. Of course, a shrew was always at risk for being snatched away on the way to market by a hungry hawk.

Mrs. T faced life's challenges and uncertainties by spending time early in the mornings beside the nearby creek. It was here that she would meditate, write and paint. You may have to look carefully to see her perched in front of her easel on top of the boulder beside the stream.