The excitement of colour.

I was just sitting here wondering what on Earth I ought to be typing about, when I looked out of the window and saw that the trees were the very same colour as the bricks of the vicarage across the road from me. “How delightful”, I thought as I clacked my tongue and raised an eyebrow. Colour is an amazing trick of bouncing light and I hope that I never stop appreciating the splendour of a well turned out tree or a Monster Munch bag sailing past my window on an Autumnal breeze.

I’m casting my mind back to my early childhood and I remember the heap of Christmas presents piled beneath my Nan’s tree in her living room. Hues of blues and sheens of greens, all neatly labelled with the names of the most important people in my life.

Easter eggs. Bright and shiny foil wrapped ovals of dental doom in boxes that held them steady and impenetrable until the moment that we were given the go ahead. On the cardboard, the spectrum of cascading Smarties which, at that time was only missing the blue one, would entice and then subvert the sickly feeling of too much chocolate.

Colour bars and Test Cards and Rainbow on the TV. Sitting spellbound whilst watching Oil Industry funded films about North Sea Gas drilling and undersea welding techniques. Home made cars, wet dogs and young Giuseppina, watching the mad World of adults racing past in a hushed blaze of corporation green and overall blue.

Onwards again, towards loud music and clownish coloured hair. Red this week, toned down to orange the next. A blue disaster and a black gothic awakening. White and then fading gently into yellow before the punkish paint pot ran dry and reverting back to nature’s palette.

The private and nameless colours seen through closed eyes as you lay down to sleep. They belong to no spectrum, to no chart and to nobody else. I see them and so do you but to describe them? Well, I’d not want to be the first one to actually try to do so.

So, when the TV is no good and the radio is played out. When the books are all dog-eared and the newspaper finally broke your spirit. When the race against time seems like an outrageous waste of all precious resources, take a walk outside and just soak in the amazing play of broken light and colour. Wear odd socks, kick through the leaves and let colour make your day as it just made mine.


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