The Artist and his Palette

One week ago I went on a trail that passed by a creek carrying a steady hum. That passed through trees whose branches were bare, but carried powerful character and hills that were carpeted in the a shade of green not typically seen. It was a as if the color in the sun's deep yellow rays and the forest green from leaves that were on trees earlier in the season were literally blended on a palette and sprayed across the hills. The trail would ultimately lead us to a single bench on top of a hill with green grass carpet at its shoulders.

As we stepped on the thin dirt trail that ran like a beautiful woven braid from the back of this bench to the tips of our feet, I was given a California golden poppy picked from the trail and placed between my fingers.

This poppy has changed my view of the world.

As I held the poppy between my fingers and gradually stepped on the braid so delicately situated in its surroundings, I began to notice the complete coordination in its coloring. The poppy was painted with colors I would never imagine complimented each other. A bright green, similar to the blend of the green grass in its surroundings was wrapped around its stems. The petals were orange as if their artist had taken an orange and flattened its surface replacing bumpy texture with silk-- letting color move with more flow and grace through its veins, free from obstruction. And what held the green stem with the orange petals wrapped around each other was a bright, pink ring.

Green. Pink. Orange.

Three colors I would never paint together in an image, or wear together in an outfit, and yet side by side in this poppy it seemed as if they were three sisters, all born from the same mother, standing side by side--complete compliments.

Since I held this poppy between my fingers while standing on the world's shoulders, I notice the beauty and design of nature's colors on a daily basis.

Strawberries with vibrant red dresses and white speckles, and deep, green, bangs.
Salads with dark green spinach and bright purple cabbage.
Trees with patches of green moss sown into deep, brown trunks.
Cliffs blended brown and gray with strings of dark gold running across.

Since the poppy, the world around me is overflowed with color. Vibrant, passionate, jovial color. It's a world no set of words will ever be able to describe sufficiently. And rightly so because its a world I don't need to describe. Lift your head and open your eyes and you'll see it for yourself.