Dave and I enjoy outings that celebrate Elgin County’s heritage. We enjoy visiting Sparta in any season and this time we were off to Sparta’s Harvest Fest. The main street was blocked off and folks were strolling around in period costumes and attire. We marveled at Wade Davies strength as the local blacksmith as he hammered a hot piece of metal on an old anvil secured to a wood stump. He glowed with perspiration and his forearms bulged with each downward stroke.

Further down the street was a lady sitting behind an old spinning wheel. Her foot tapped a beat with the spinning of the wheel and twisting of the carded wool. She was suitably attired in an old-fashioned gown and dust mop cap.

My attention turned to a small boy sporting black watch tartan trews, black suspenders and black silk bowtie starkly contrasting his snow white shirt. The young lad was making shadows with his hands in the afternoon sunlight, donkeys, rabbits and birds. He was amusing himself like children have for ages past. Suddenly, along came his sister in a charming print dress trimmed in handmade lace. A large old-fashioned poke bonnet all but obscured her features. I wanted to paint the two of them. I found their father Rick Enright and asked if I could photograph them in front of the Victorian garden. Rick was very gracious after I told him I was an artist from Dutton. I posed the children in front of the flowerbed, took several shots including this one. Big sister didn’t want little brother to get too close and wreck the flowers. Typical of big sisters. I could relate because I was the eldest of eight kids and did that countless times to my younger siblings. Later that afternoon I noticed that the kids were winding down. It had been a long day. I wanted to catch Rick and get his contact information. I always let the family see the finished painting and have first dibs at purchasing. Rick squatted down and I gave him a piece of paper from my purse. While he put down his phone number and address his son came up and rested his head on Dad’s knee. Weary to the bone. Time to head home. Dave and I did too. What a great day of memories.

I loved this painting of Rick and his son. How often do you see images of a strong bond of affection and nurturing between Father & Son.