They made her a grave, too cold and damp
For a soul so warm and true;
And she’s gone to the Lake of the Dismal Swamp,
Where, all night long, by a fire-fly lamp,
She paddles her white canoe.
— By Thomas Moore
The Dismal Swamp has a fascinating history. If you’re not already aware of its intricacies, check it out here.
Extract: “Even though the average depth of the lake is only six feet, its unusually pure water is essential to the swamp’s survival. The amber-colored water is preserved by tannic acids from the bark of the juniper, gum and cypress trees, prohibiting growth of bacteria. Before the days of refrigeration, water from the Swamp was a highly prized commodity on sailing ships. It was put in kegs and would stay fresh a long time. People spoke of the magical qualities of the Swamp’s tea-coloured water and how, if it were regularly drunk, it prevented illness and promoted long life.”
I took a hiatus from blogging for a while, overwhelmed by everything going on in my life, but now things have settled down a bit so here's one of my latest paintings done in coffee with a bit of watercolour.