The Joy of Colours

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July 2, 2023- Two little girls offered commentary, during last night’s early fireworks display. They were most interested in the colours shown by each burst-even noting that the “weeping” item was silver droplets, gently falling. By the time the grand finale had finished, they had tallied twenty-five combinations of green, purple, orange, red, yellow and blue. Their correct summation was that there was a lot of “rainbow stuff”. There were only a few elements that had silver or gold, but that was okay with the kids.

It is a source of joy to me, to see colours in just about anything I encounter-whether in an urban environment, (Thank God for murals, which mainly add luster to a given neighbourhood), or in the glories of nature. The hues could be several shades of green forest, or miles of red rock or, as in the Grand Canyon, a riot of primary colours- from the ancient dark browns of earliest Earth to the iron-flecked top layers of the canyon rims. There have been times when eerie mists rose up from the Hassayampa River, southwest of here, as I hiked in a riparian preserve, several years back or a dazzling, flashing set of several colours appeared to me as I sat at Shalako, a site at the bottom of Texas’ Palo Duro Canyon, a year after Penny passed on. (No, I was not on hallucinogens!)

I am partial to blue, when it comes to choice of clothing, but have been more eclectic, in that regard, this past decade or so. Being required to wear only dark blue polo shirts when I worked for an inventory service, some fifteen years ago, helped bring about a wider palette. When it comes to living creatures-from flowers to animals, I have no set preferences: The wider the variety of colours, the better. Likewise, in the matter of human beings: What will it ever matter, as to the colour of epidermis, eyes or hair?

I take full delight, in the visual wealth we are proffered by the Divine.

Ad Intensium

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January 10, 2021-

(The above is my own coinage, meaning continuously building in strength or force.)

The cold continues, leaving mornings here, in the Teens

and brings snow to the Texas Prairie,

even to the Piney Woods to its east.

The obfuscation continues,

taking advantage of a quiet weekend,

and foretelling extralegal events,

over the next two weeks,

with a surety born of either

delusion, or collusion.

I sit here, in my cozy home,

getting residual chills,

from memories of last Sunday night,

when I walked in the vastness

of a majestic, but nearly frozen,

wilderness.

I read of another soul’s

peregrinations,

in Sedona and near Hopiland,

and recall my having been

greeted,

by spirit lights,

nine years ago,

in a place named

Shalako,

at the bottom of

Palo Duro Canyon,

and not too long after,

in the bed of the Hassayampa River.

I see and feel

the days and weeks to come,

ad intensium.