It was a windy day when I sketched this almost bare tree. It was about to rain and the sky was gloomy. I sketched quickly feeling the wind on my face and hair. I like how the thin tree stood amidst the rocks and inches away from the boulder.
It was a lovely sight as if they were communicating with each other.
Hear my cry, O God,
listen to my prayer;
from the end of the earth I call to you
when my heart is faint.
Lead me to the rock
that is higher than I,
for you have been my refuge,
a strong tower against the enemy