The winter is a perfect time to contemplate color. Perhaps its general absence makes it is easier to see what is there. The clumps of pine needles stand out against a white background. There is a yellow haze haloing the cottonwoods, so subtle I wonder if my anticipation of spring is playing a trick on me. The red in the tail of the hawk can clearly be seen against the grey sky as he scopes out a new perch.
Maybe it is also my new love of watercolors that is changing my view. I've looked at some of my photos and zoomed in so far that all I can see are the individual pixels of color. I know the impressionists discovered this long before I did, but my eyes are finally seeing it on their own. And they are seeing it in everything.
No comments:
Post a Comment