Autumn has arrived, and the world is quietly shifting from green to shades of red, yellow and orange. The wind rustles through the trees, the sunlight turns softer and more golden. There’s something perfectly balanced about this season — not too hot, not too cold, just the right kind of warmth.
I open my watercolour sketchbook, feeling the texture of the paper beneath my fingers. A little orange on the brush, a gentle wash across the page — that becomes the base of my autumn sky. Then I add a touch of grey-blue, letting the colours flow and blend together. It reminds me of the skies I often see in the late afternoons — calm, layered, and quietly glowing.
The grass remains green, though not the vivid green of summer; it’s calmer now, more thoughtful somehow. I brush in a few strokes of soft green, then add a couple of trees in the distance. Their trunks are brown, their leaves touched by orange, red and yellow — as if they’re both burning and bidding farewell.
That’s what I love about watercolour — the way it spreads freely, the way it never turns out quite as planned. It doesn’t demand precision; instead, it rewards you with gentle surprises.
I suppose that’s why I love painting autumn.
Not to create a perfect picture, but to capture a fleeting softness in colour.
Perhaps you’d like to pick up a brush too, and paint your own page of autumn?
You don’t need to be perfect — just a splash of colour is enough to let the season stay with you.
