23 × 30 cm
It was rising time, the clouds were crossing the river and its bank where I was standing on the stones, while the tents spread all around were closed and surrounded in silence. Only a few fit rowers whizzed by, one pair of fishermen on the boat kept me company. They didn't catch a single things, they were just enjoying the view just like me, but instead of a fishing rod with a paintbrush in my hand. Swans and ducks revived this place.
I was gone before the tents opened. On the way back, though, I met some surprisingly looking expressions. I guess they belonged to people, who hadn't met painter-enthusiasts yet in their lifes...?