All eyes in Maine are very hungry for color right now. Our souls know the difference between manmade colors in fabric and paint and the real deal from Mother Nature. But it’s early spring, and while the rest of the country might be bursting forth with greenery and colorful flowers, Maine sits in limbo. Mother Nature cannot be begged or bribed, but at this same time last year, we were still completely buried in snow, so I won’t complain.
Still, my eyes are hungry for color, and I can find it if I
look hard enough. Of course, we have the
green of pine trees everywhere, which while boring in the summer, suddenly
becomes very endearing in the winter and early spring. It’s funny how that happens. Plain Jane becomes a siren under the right
conditions. What we once ignored now
captivates us.
 |
| Plain Jane. |
Just look at this red twig dogwood that surrounds a good portion of the river. The brilliant red color is astounding--no Plain
Jane here. It almost seems a shame for
it to grow any green leaves when it looks so festive completely bare. Perhaps leaves are highly overrated. And it’s “real” color, which makes it that
much more comforting. The rule, however,
is that no cardinals are allowed to perch in it since the red of the twigs
would wash their beautiful red feathers out.
Now, the blue jays are more than welcome amid the red twigs to provide
dramatic contrast, but being the narcissists that they are, they never listen
to me.
Sometimes I wonder if our eyes are just too bombarded with
color all the time. It’s so easy to miss
the pretty colors of nature--even at this time of year--when your eyes are
constantly saturated in color. I would
imagine this is unprecedented for most of mankind’s history. Natural dyes for fabrics from the plant world
as well as Mother Nature’s cyclical display was all people had. Maybe that was enough.
There’s a certain honesty at least in all the bareness. Nothing can be hidden and there’s no need for
pretense. What you see is what you
get. When the greenery comes, while it
is beautiful to be sure, it also demands to be the center of attention, as all
children do. Then all of the beautiful
things I look at now--the pines, the red twig dogwood, the holly, etc.--will
quietly tiptoe back into the corner to be Plain Jane once again.
But I think Jane is beautiful.
