Tuesday, June 10
Tuesday, June 10Thin skeins of fog lay across the harbor, and the last of the higher fog layer was breaking into drifting clouds that grew smaller as Viktor Sentik watched them. He had wakened early and taken a cup of coffee down to the beach, then walked to the end of the pier. Who, he wondered, had decided on that violent blueish-green color? After strolling the seafront, he had returned to the hotel where the plein-air painters gathered, and stood now at the edge of the broad patio where the early risers were gathered at breakfast, watching the mingling and listening to the babble of voices.
The week of painting was well under way, and the group was happily recounting accomplishments. The two Frenchmen had gone to two Two Harbors, where Jean-Marc had painted a view of
