In College, where snow was white and buildings were brick and grass was green, I noticed the colors people wore, coats and scarves and clothes and such. Little by little the idea of color became man made: that all the varieties of colors are something manufactured. Because, birds were just robins and their “red breasts” were actually kind of dull orange. And my head was in the books.
In young married life color became even more strange. We lived among a Chinese crowd in LA, attending English service at CEFC and all my friends were Chinese (not to mention my husband) and I began to have Chinese eyes, so that when I went to watch a movie (the one about a first female baseball league) all the women seemed to have really long thin faces! People with hair other than black looked blond, even if they would call their hair brown themselves.
But then I had a baby.
Snow sparkled in many many colors that year.
Bricks were beautifully multicolored, in non-patterns.
Trees turned many many colors before she was born.
My baby’s hair was exactly my color from childhood (by that time I was dying it): darkest brown with sometimes orange strands highlighted by the sun. Only sometimes, indoors, hers looked blue-black.
Toddler baby picked up stones on walks and I thrilled to see that they also had so many many colors.
Walking in the park, when spring returned, I learned the song of robins without know I was learning it.
And we hung a bird feeder out our kitchen window and I was amazed to see the colors birds can come in!
Oh, it is God who dreamed up all the varieties of color!
Thanks and praise to Him!