A Year in Color


A friend asked me, “What color is each month?” So I replied:

January is pale, not quite white. Maybe a pale grey. 

February is an icy, snowy blue. It freezes your bones and chatters your teeth. 

March is a budding, washy green. 

April is the bright pink of first tulips and the purple of hyacinths. 

May is yellow, sunshine-bright. 

June is a hazy, feathery blue, with the warmth of summer and the smoke of barbecues setting in. 

July is fluffy color, rosy pink like cotton candy or golden like elephant ears. 

August starts to become bronzey, like late summer heat. 

September is all primary colors with school in full swing. 

October is gold and burnished. 

November is pumpkin orange and the mahogany of a cornucopia. 

December is a deep berry red and warm evergreen glow, reminding us that nature’s springtime glory needs sleep but will be back. Winter will bring its own beauty, and Spring will come again. 

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The Truth on Earth, Not in the Air


It’s April and it smells like Christmas outside. It’s that cold, shimmering scent, one that promises things to come. I suppose, in that sense, Christmas and spring are similar in nature. Almost like the world is holding its breath, waiting for something. The air is cold and crisp, too much so for April for my tastes, but this is Indiana, after all. The grass is green, the trees are starting to shed their buds and press forth with leaves, albeit reluctantly, and so nature assures us of what the weather would belie:

Winter is done.

Spring is coming.

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