Local Color — Imagine we lived in a world that’s all of a sudden devoid of color, but where you’re given the option to have just one object keep its original hue. Which object (and which color) would that be?
This is the wrong time of year to ask that questions. My world has been saturated with the richest colors of nature’s spectrum and I am unable to make such a choice. Though if I must pick an object — or “class of objects” — it would have to be “trees.” In this part of the world, trees are showtime. The heart and soul of every season.
Winter strips the color effectively enough. We live in a black-and-white world from December through March, only traffic lights blinking in red, yellow, and green. And Christmas decorations — red, green, more red, more green.
I wear bright coats and sweaters to compensate for the paled-out world, the utter silent whiteness of it all. Red is the color that holds its own throughout white days and nights.
So I’ll keep red. And, if you don’t mind, I’ll also hang on to red’s close cousins, the oranges and warm yellows. You can build a whole world with those colors. I know. I’ve been living in that world for weeks.
CEE’S FUN FOTO CHALLENGE – WINTER
If there is one season we have more than enough of here in New England, it’s winter. It depends on the year, of course, Not all winters are created equal. Usually, we are buried under ice and snow from late November to early April. But there are exceptions.
Every once in a while, we have a mild winter. We had one a few winters ago where there was nothing more than a dusting of snow for the winter … and then we had a drought in the spring because there was no melt-off to fill the rivers, aquifers, and lakes. Still, I was personally grateful for the break.
Last year was horrendous. It was not the coldest winter I can remember, nor the snowiest, but it had the most ice. And bitter weather when you most needed a thaw to reduce the weight of snow on roofs, to make roads and walkways passable.
Fortunately, spring was not accompanied, as it often is, by torrential rains so we avoided the annual flooding of everyone’s basement in all the valley’s towns.
Yet winter is magnificent. When that first layer of white comes down from the skies and wraps the world in its soft blanket, it’s hard not to hear music and poetry in your head. If only it weren’t so bitter … or last so long.
How about we strike a deal? One month of winter … say January? Start right after the New Year then melt in time for Valentine’s Day. That would be more than sufficient.
A misty morning in January … Our woods, our home. A rare day with no snow on the ground. Maybe the last day of this past winter when there was dry ground. By the end of the month, we will be hip deep in ice and snow.
In this week’s photo challenge, capture an image that tells a full story in a single frame.
The music was playing. It was dark and bitterly cold. By the lights woven through the trees, one couple was dancing.
How small is small enough? Icicles this past winter hung from the gutters above my office window, naturally black and white, just needing a bit of brightening and increased contrast.
Are the icicles small enough to be small subjects? I guess it depends on your definition of small … and compared to what.
Sometimes, Garry and I are guests on an overnight radio show. We used to do it every 5 or 6 weeks, but I was ill for a long time and I haven’t been able to do it for the past year. I loved doing the show and we always arrived home just as dawn broke. This was one of those post-radio show mornings.
This is mid March in New England. The sun in March is just starting its change from the white light of winter to the yellow sun of spring.
The sun is up.