About the third block of work

Oil on Canvas | 14” x 18”

$24,192

A short-eared owl slices through the sky, wings taut, eyes locked on an approaching threat. Feathers ripple with urgency as it pivots midair, facing down a northern harrier barreling toward it with talons poised. The owl flares its wings in defiance, ready for a fierce aerial dogfight.
Bathed in the last light of day, it becomes more than a combatant—it becomes emblematic. A creature of dusk, it hovers at the edge of transition, where forest yields to sky and stillness gathers before night unfurls.
Seen only in winter on Long Island, short-eared owls arrive like whispers on the wind—ephemeral visitors from the north whose presence feels almost imagined. Their stay is brief, their movements elusive, their silhouettes often glimpsed at the margins of day.

Oil on Canvas | 14” x 18”

$24,192

Clinging to the bark of a pine tree, a monarch butterfly rests in stillness, its closed wings are jeweled with dew. As the early light of dawn filters through the canopy, the butterfly is cast in a gentle warmth that begins to stir it from slumber. Before it can fly and feed on nearby goldenrod, it must wait to absorb the sun’s energy. As it warms, light filters through its wings which become like stained glass.
This moment, suspended between inertia and motion, speaks to the splendor of migration. The monarch, delicate yet dogged, will embark on a journey spanning thousands of miles to the mountains of Mexico—a feat of instinct, endurance, and ancestral memory.
The pine, rooted and unmoving, offers temporary refuge. Together, tree and butterfly form a fleeting alliance: one grounded, one destined to drift. In this exchange, we glimpse nature’s unfolding symphony.

Oil on Canvas | 14” x 18”

$24,192

Drifting across a still pond in early spring, a pair of ring-necked ducks glide in tandem. The light is soft, filtered through overcast skies, casting a muted glow that sharpens their markings—his crisp contrast of black and white, her subtle mottled browns. They move as one, and his gaze never strays far from her, a silent sentinel in the season’s slow awakening.
This intimate moment speaks to the bonds of pair formation. These ducks have traveled far to reach this pond, a temporary haven in the shifting landscape of spring. Their presence is a glimpse into the rhythms of courtship, vigilance, and trust.
The water, barely disturbed, reflects a world in transition. Around them, the trees are just beginning to bud, and the air carries the scent of spring’s thaw. In this suspended stillness, we witness not just two birds, but a partnership shaped by instinct and endurance.

Oil on Canvas | 14” x 18”

Blasting out from the water in a burst of motion, an osprey rises with a fish clutched in its talons—wings outstretched, droplets suspended midair, the moment frozen in raw precision. The bird’s gaze is locked forward, its body taut with purpose, a living embodiment of strength, skill, and evolutionary mastery.
The osprey, influenced by wind and water, executes its dive with breathtaking accuracy. In this image, we witness the apex of evolution: the flash of talons, the resistance of water, the final grasp of prey.
The scene is elemental. Water churns beneath the bird, reflecting the fleeting chaos of impact. The fish, still glistening, is caught between worlds—lifted from the depths into the air, a symbol of nature’s ceaseless exchange.
Around them, the pond remains still, bordered by reeds and early spring buds. It is a subdued stage for this act of power, a reminder that even in tranquil settings, life is in motion.

$24,192

Oil on Canvas | 14” x 18”

$24,192

A solitary sandpiper moves through the saturated edges of a bog. Amid golden blooms and the first blush of autumn leaves, it searches—patient, precise—for a meal drawn from the wetland’s hidden bounty. With each careful stride, it probes the soft terrain, gleaning insects and invertebrates from the shallow waters and damp soil. The bird’s slender frame and mottled plumage blend seamlessly into the preserve’s layered palette, a living thread in the wetland’s seasonal mosaic.
In early autumn, the bog is alive with color. Beyond the yellow wildflowers, the trees begin their slow transformation—leaves tinged with amber and rust drift toward the water, signaling the shift in season. The sandpiper moves through this scene with solitary determination, its presence a reminder of migration’s rhythm and the resilience of small travelers. It is part of the bog’s living story—one thread in a tapestry woven from water, root, and wing.

Oil on Canvas | 14” x 18”

$24,192

A juvenile bald eagle lifts from the river’s surface, talons clenched around a writhing fish. Its wings beat with raw power, still learning the rhythm of precision and grace. The catch is imperfect, but it is a triumph nonetheless. In the golden light of autumn, the mottled bird rises against a backdrop of rust, brown, and burnished gold. The trees along the riverbank shimmer like flame, framing the moment in seasonal splendor.
This is not yet the practiced elegance of an adult hunter. The young eagle is in training—each dive, each grasp, a lesson in survival. The river offers no guarantees, only opportunity. And in this suspended instant, the bird becomes a symbol of growth: fierce, determined, and beautifully unfinished. Its flight carves through the crisp air, a silhouette of ambition against the turning leaves. The fish, the river, the fire-colored forest—all part of the eagle’s education. A story written in talon and water, in instinct and autumn light.

Oil on Canvas | 14” x 18”

Oil on Canvas | 14” x 18”

$24,192

In the soft spill of morning light, two baby owlets perch at the edge of a tree cavity, no longer tucked deep within its hollow. Their downy feathers melt into the shadows around them, an embrace of warmth, even as they sit apart on opposite sides of the opening. Sleep pulls at their heavy lids, and their heads droop in tandem, a mirrored surrender to the day’s arrival. The tree cavity, carved by time and weather, has cradled them since hatching. But now, space beckons. The world beyond the bark is beginning to unfold.
They resemble stuffed toys—round, gentle, impossibly soft. Yet beneath the fluff lie talons like scythes: curved, gleaming, and tucked beneath their bodies. These are tools of survival, waiting for the moment when instinct overtakes innocence. The tree is a temporary shelter in a forest of lessons. For now, they sleep—wrapped in down, framed by wood, and shadowed by the silent promise of what they will become.