In case you were looking, we left out yesterday's shades of green. They didn't seem to go well with the rest of the posting. Today we'll skip any rants, or at least keep them to a minimum, and get straight to today's shades of green:
hexadecimal codes. I just can't find myself relating to 2e4242 nearly as well as I do British Racing Green (not that I'm suggesting 2e4242 is BRG, mind you). There's also the fact that not everyone perceives colors the same way (remember the gold-white : blue-black dress from sometime last month?) It's almost enough to make me sympathetic (or at least pathetic) about former President Clinton's "It depends on what the meaning of the word 'is' is...."
I also these days encounter setbacks when I notice the stunning colors that show up before sunrise and try to decide if they're fuscia, rose, pink or purple, fading into saffron as the sun climbs above the horizon. We truly live in a world of color and wonder, but, sometimes, I wonder how we ever manage to communicate. One way is with pictures. Here's what our currently snow-free back yard looked like one year ago. The dominant color was white, tinged with gray shadows. Today it's shades of brown and tan.
what a difference a year makes. no snow cover in 2015
Photo by J. Harrington
My sister, who lives in the Boston area, recently expressed concern that, after all they'd been through this Winter, they still needed 2" more snow to set the all time record. I shared with her this morning the piece in Writer's Almanac about today being the anniversary of the great blizzard of 1888 that dropped 50" of snow along the eastern seaboard (scroll below the Almanac poem). I much prefer continuing to sort out what the meaning of the word green is.
Orange Berries Dark Green Leaves
Darkened not completely dark let us walk in the darkened fieldtrees in the field outlined against that which is less darkunder the trees are bushes with orange berries dark green leavesnot poetry’s mixing of yellow light blue sky darker than thatdarkness of the leaves a modulation of the accumulated darknessorange of the berries another modulation spreading out toward usit is like the reverberation of a bell rung three timeslike the call of a voice the call of a voice that is not there.We will not look up how they got their name in a book of nameswe will not trace the name’s root conjecture its first murmuringthe root of the berries their leaves is succoured by darknessdarkness like a large block of stone hauled on a wooden sledlike stone formed and reformed by a dark sea rolling in turmoil.
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Please be kind to each other while you can.