In 2001, my family moved upriver from New York City to the Hudson Valley, a decision that felt like sealing a lifelong love with a true commitment. We had already experienced countless “honeymoon” moments there—crisp November days in the Bear Mountains, spring hikes in the Catskills, summer trips to waterparks that gave way to gentle ski slopes in winter. So when we finally settled in, it felt like coming home.

Ironically, the move sparked a decade-long break from painting; why paint when I was surrounded by nature’s own masterpiece? But in 2013, when my youngest left for college and the house grew quiet again, I found myself drawn back to my old paints.

I began with the 400-year-old oak behind our house, a tree that has come to mean so much to me. Its sprawling branches stretch over our home and into neighboring yards, having witnessed centuries of change. It welcomed the first Dutch settlers, just as it welcomed me decades ago, and has silently watched generations pass, as I too will in my brief time here. The tree, the mountains, the valleys, and the rivers are the true residents of this land—I am only a passing guest. This piece is my tribute to the enduring beauty and spirit of the Hudson Valley.