Rev. Carol Lipkin/Peaceful Journeys
If I were a Violin – ‘In Tune’, Naturally, I would play Vivaldi’s Winter….
It is the dead of winter, mid-February with spring attempting to show itself upon the arrival of March. Maybe not this year for the snow has escaped us in New England with little to show leaving everything part rustic, dirty to some degree with a mundane feel that engulfs many in wishing it was spring. Temperatures reveal spring like weather with the winter and mother nature taking us on a roller-coaster ride up and down leaving us in a whirlwind of clothing choices as we throw on a heavy jacket that weighs us down in the warmer temps.
I decided to take a closer look, seeing the mundane in a different light, possibly an interesting perspective. I stopped for a moment to adjust the leash wrapped around my wrist holding Lily so she would not just take off as she longs to do in this vast field, as if it is her own pasture to roam.
My first love was photography, but I cannot control my Nikon in these brief moments capturing light or something interesting within the mundane, as Lily has her own perspective. I must resort painfully to the idea of capturing what I can through the lens of an iPhone.... But, Lily! Wait…. Do you see that colour? No, she smells something that catches her attention, not so much in the frame I set up for a clear interesting shot; instead, she is pulling to an area that is another 10 feet away, leaving me to reframe from where she picks up on the scent.
I visualize an area with my mind working its composition; Lily is telling me that there is something over here insisting, pulling, tugging for she is only 5 ½ months old and with so many smells, she must smell them all. I reprimand her to come, sit for just a moment for I have found the most vibrant of colour within the mundane of February. Popping colour! Green as you never experienced it, lush as the mountains in Scotland. A small patch popping with amazing colour bringing a glimmer of spring right here in this frame of a mundane February afternoon. She is not the least impressed for the colour to her holds no scent, no interest.
There is a natural colour of winter with reds, browns, grays showing the dull aspects of branches and brush devoid of vitality. It is winter and everything dies anyway as it prepares itself to rebirth its brightness, its lush form, bursting with animation into its full form whether it be a tree or bush, flowers, etc.….
There! There in what we would describe as dull, swampy, as some do not find swamps to be aesthetic; yes, there colour pops with cat tails reaching to the bluish, gray skies with their long stalks bursting open, cotton like fluff that provides a warm white providing a thousand uses that many have no idea of. The stagnant water beneath forms a mirror showing the sky above and a dingy tannish green colour near the shallow area of slushy ice that has formed creating its own palate. Trees stand half dead, some showing their age with its mere size waiting for their buds to pop open come spring.
There, yes, right there you will find the odd rustic, reddish pump camouflaging itself against the rustic nature of winter, yet giving you a complimentary composition as you allow your sight to travel just beyond, noticing the lush beauty of moss wrapping the trees with its soft vibrant presence of the colour green.