During the transection period of the seasons, especially from summer to autumn, hot and stuffy air lingered on refusing to infuse with the autumn breeze. The sun did not show up while a layer of flimsy clouds pervading the sky making it looked as flat as a piece of pancake. The old lady greeted me at the bottom of the viewing platform asking if I had the sceneries of the park painted. I complained to her that it was impossible for me to paint every corner of the park while some nosy and nasty morning regulars were on my way. She nodded to understand without saying a second word, so I hurried to the bottom of the straight path. The major image of the segment to paint this morning was the linear plant bed edge extending to where I sat. Without using the brush to measure the scene, misjudgments on proportions of the ascending perspectives occurred. To avoid further confusion I applied watercolor immediately hoping that the vibrant hues might overwhelm the messy sketch. I disagreed with the color painted for the plant bed edge when I was subconsciously comparing it, in my memory, to the picture painted before, until I realized that I was painting the same view trying to achieve the phenomenal atmospheric color of the season.