Every now and then I am struck by the vivid beauty of colors.
Heavy rains have pelted us for two days and just as sunset approached, the skies had begun to clear. The roiling clouds still hung low to the north but the sun had muscled its way through at the western edges of the sky. It was no orange that painted the gray undersides but an unusual deep glorious rich red that bled wide stripes across the rough dark gray clouds. Instantly the sailors’ rhyme leaped to mind “Red Sky at night, sailors’ delight.” Just a few moments to revel in the awesome beauty of Mother Nature.
The cold snap has begun to turn the leaves here in Crabbs Prairie. Admittedly, we don’t have the magnificent color displays that northerners enjoy, but we do have our little bit. I came out to walk the dogs just as the sun had begun to sparkle in the pine tops. Overnight, the leaves on the Arizona Ash in our front yard had changed from its usual delicate green to brilliant yellows and bits of red. Like a mirrored lake, the ground under the tree had become a carpet of happy yellow-gold.
As the dogs, excited by the crisp fall air, ran through the grass under the post oaks and pin oaks, some of their leaves had begun to fall. As the wind freed the dying brown leaves from their boughs, they fell earthward. Rather than drifting down, however, the weight of the heavier petioles at the base of the leaves caused them to windmill like tiny tan and russet helicopters. And who can help the wonderfully satisfying crunch and crackle of crushing the leaves under foot?
Yesterday, while handing out programs for the Best Christmas Pageant Ever, I felt a touch on my shoulder. I turned to find myself overwhelmed by brilliant blue. My beautiful friend Nancy has stunning blue eyes the color of a clear summer sky and she was wearing a cornflower blue blouse that glowed with the exact same color. She has wisely let her hair go gray and the glorious combination of a cloud of silver gray hair with her sparkling blue eyes is absolutely breathtaking. And on top of all that, she is so cheerful everyone wants to be around her.
For a riot of colors, I can always count on my friend Bobbe. She quilts. Her ingenuity in combining bits and scraps and pieces of cloth into amazing designs are a feast for the eyes. Walking into her cloth closet, however, where the pieces are organized by color, is like being wrapped in a sensual rainbow.
This morning, there are no leaves left, and the golden carpet is gone, but the sky is as blue as Nancy’s eyes, and the rain-wet grass is a brilliant green, and Bobbe’s colors are everywhere.
Time to walk the dogs.