Monday, February 9, 2009

IN THE PINK!

Today we are “in the pink”—at least that’s how we began the morning’s first minutes. Odd as it may sound, most mornings I keep track of the day’s arrival by actually looking west, across the river, where ranks of white-barked sycamore lean over the water in thoughtful vigilance. Their high tops, intricately interlaced like the finest pale-ivory netsuke carvings, catch the initial light. Typically, this reflected light appears as a rich golden varnish. Today, however, the watchful trees seemed to be blushing—their normal warm yellow replaced by a light rosé. I half-arose, stretched over the breakfast table, and craned around to where I could look back to the east. What a sight! Above the hill, dawn’s earliest light was slipping through the tangled branches of the walnut and hackberry along the drive, shimmering like a sensuous nymph in shiny pink satin. The hues were soft but sure, not at all weak or washed out, and of a shade that reminded me of an ancient rosebush that rambled along the front fence at my parents’ home. A dawn glowing pink and flushed as a healthy newborn fresh from the night’s dark womb. A dawn bursting with potential and possibility. A dawn the color of cotton candy…and just as sweet a treasure.

8 comments:

The Weaver of Grass said...

Lovely stuff as usual. Do so enjoy your descriptive writing Scribe. Here, if we get a pink dawn, it suggests that the weather is not going to be good (red sky in a morning, shepherd's warning!) Maybe it is not the same for you.

The-Grizzled-But-Still-Incorrigible-Scribe-Himself! said...

Weaver…

Thank you for your comments.

Re. the sky's portent…the proverb I've always heard was "red sky at morning, sailors take warning." (Perhaps because we have more sailors than shepherds hereabouts, Lake Erie being our "inland sea" and all.) Still, I dismissed it anyway, because of color, as this dawn was pink rather than red. Possibly a case of hue hairsplitting, though it has so far worked out, as we're in the mid-40s and climbing, sun with only the occasional cloud, and birds (mostly wrens, titmice, and sparrows) singing boisterously.

The real warning is that I could too easily get used to this!

giggles said...

Off topic today...but I thought you'd get a kick out of this observation....

I have a perpetual calendar that has "wise" quotes and thoughts.... Today's? "Happiness is not a state to arrive at, but a manner of traveling." (Margaret Lee Runbeck)

I know this to be true...and yet at times, so difficult to live by ....

The-Grizzled-But-Still-Incorrigible-Scribe-Himself! said...

Giggles…

There are no "off topic" worries on this blog, ever. Comment as you will, about whatever you wish.

Yes, the statement is doubtless true, being a sort of variation on that other truism, "happiness is a choice." But like so many things in life, it's often much easier to say than do. Personally, I'm a mostly "glass half full" optimist. I'll joke about, laugh at, make fun of, and tease unmercifully virtually any and all subjects. Often to the ire of others. Not much is sacred with me, and I seldom take myself seriously. I say, if you can't have fun every day…why get up?

But…when I get down, when the world turns black and all hope and worth and purpose flee into the darkness, a reason for happiness—perhaps for choosing happiness—is a tough bill to sell myself. We all have our temporary lapses, I guess.

I'd always rather have joy than happiness—but I'd sure rather be happy than sad.

Raph G. Neckmann said...

Love that pink sky, Grizzled!

I've been exulting over the evening sky here - perfect smooth gradation of greenish-turquoise up to deep blue, with black tree silhouettes and snowy fields.

The-Grizzled-But-Still-Incorrigible-Scribe-Himself! said...

Raph…

I've long been a fan of painted skies, too. The colors can be fantastic, with swirls and juxtapositions that simply leave me breathless sometimes. Winter has its own colored skies, different than those of, say, autumn.

I didn't manipulate the shot in any way other than a slight cropping and sharpening—the latter necessary because I was handholding the camera and shooting slow. That's just the way it looked—a pretty pink. And ten seconds after the photo…faded almost completely.

Raph G. Neckmann said...

I wasn't referring to a painted sky on this occasion, Grizzled! It was the evening sky outside of the window - I just gazed and gazed until it was nearly dark.

The-Grizzled-But-Still-Incorrigible-Scribe-Himself! said...

Raph…

My mistake. 'Twas the gloamin' you were watchin', eh? The fadin' of the day…

Still lovely.