It was a great day to go painting, in spite of the threat of storms and my own, well, inertia. Most of the afternoon had passed when I drove out to find a place to paint. It took a bit of exploring to find a spot convincing enough to get me stop and set up a pochade box. Storms moved in over the mountains behind me, but stayed out of the valley where I was. Forecasted strong winds others had warned me about never became a problem, either. I painted until after sunset. Most of the storms had cleared by then. That was when soothing milder temperatures settled in, replacing the heat of the afternoon. Then the underside of clouds reflected a brilliant red from a sun already below the horizon, and a big full moon rose over the Wasatch Mountains. It was a great day to go painting.