A Not Colorless Day

 “The purest and most thoughtful minds are those which love color the most.”
—John Ruskin, The Stones of Venice

The colors that strike me today (a day which I started to call colorless):

• the saturated green the rain has so intensified
• the tarnished silver of my little shaman pin
• the candyfloss pink of a sad-faced teddy bear
• oranges, both ripening and spent
• the fire brick red of the bocce ball in my photo (made with kermes, the oak that dyed the fated sails of Theseus, or carmine lake?)
• the powder blue of the sweater I’ll keep warm in
• more silver, a chain holding its piece of weathered sea glass
• the oatmeal, its own shade, with raspberry stirred in

 And this fine compilation from Jack Kerouac’s On the Road:

 “Soon it got dusk, a grapy dusk, a purple dusk over tangerine groves and long melon fields; the sun the color of pressed grapes, slashed with burgundy red, the fields the color of love and Spanish mysteries.”

image:  The Watercolour Log