4 December 2020 (hiker)

late fall . . .

a hiker in blaze orange

way up the mountain

14 July 2019 (tiger lilies)

tiger lilies

a time in my life

when I wore orange

November 12: Orange

fall color

men in the prison yard

wearing orange watchcaps

January 31: Orange

It's good for me--

unpeeled orange

in a blue-and-white China bowl.

Posted with Blogsy

December 17: Box of oranges arrives at the office

Gift of oranges.
We peel them while talking
of tonight's snowstorm.

January 9: Oranges

Some days I just find myself craving a particular color. This morning I was drawn to orange--orange undershirt, some clementines with my cereal for breakfast, orange gloves as I headed out to soak up some sunlight. The need was stimulated, I'm sure, by my constant need for more warmth this time of year, as well as the mood boost the color offers when contrasted with the pale dirty snow out my window. It's a color that catches and embodies light, connoting Florida citrus and sunshine. Perhaps my body craves more Vitamin C to help me shed once and for all a niggling cold, and this attraction to orange is a way of getting me to ingest some healthful fruit.

The sight of tulips in my window near the fruit bowl helped satisfy my longing for this color, albeit not as tangibly as those clementines, which I devoured. 

And I've been fixating on a section of our prayer flag garland that sports five tangerine-colored pennants in a row, the only repetition in a string of 48. If I could translate those symbols, perhaps there's something I need to be learning there...

Fruit and flowers glow

in kitchen's weak, winter light.

Outside, dirty snow.

October 6: Local Color

On this dark, bleak, rainy night, I'm thankful we figured out earlier why our furnace hasn't been working for a few days. Now the heat's back on, but that's not enough to satisfy my soul. My hair's still wet. I'm wearing black. My husband's wearing black. What I really need are light and color.

There's something about the warm colors of fall that nourish the spirit as the forest begins to shut down for winter. They keep us going. Yesterday I took a few photos on sunlit Ragged Mountain of some fallen leaves and a group of bright orange, pixie-sized mushrooms. The mushrooms reminded me of one of my favorite pieces of clothing, a tangerine-colored down jacket that I wear almost year-round. I'm not sure what it says about my personality that what was once my least favorite hue--orange--is now one of those I'm most drawn to. I think the jacket's color warms me as much as the garment itself.

And favorite jacket aside, it was a cool-looking little cluster of fungi tucked amid fall's first tossed off bits of clothing. Soon enough the trees will be stark, naked, with only the remnants of their hot attire strewn riotously about. The autumn forest is a wild party.

Fall's a wild party,

one last orgy of color

leaving all naked.

Guess these leaves are inspiring--my friend Brian coincidentally posted a similar photo with his blog post today too.