Sap green, moss green, cyprus green, brilliant green, lime green,
forest green – sitting on a rock, with a carpet of wildflowers beneath
my feet, I began contemplating my view with ‘artists eyes’, wondering
how I could possibly capture it.
The darker evergreens are punctuated by the spring foliage that
dapples the hillsides with every imaginable shade. As light catches
the leaves they are enlivened, or flattened, as today’s clouds add
depth, just as the rays of sunshine add contrast.
One minute everything is glistening after the rain, the next it is
matte and velvet-like, without shadows; the softer hue envelopes me as
I enter tunnels of beaconing trees, their roots lining my path, and in
an instant the light flickers and dancing spots appear, completely
transforming the scene.
As I walked my mind continued on its own tangent, as if I had opened
my eyes for the very first time. I saw the forest differently: the merging
of tones; the new growth outlined against the deeper winter layers;
the many companions, side by side, waving their branches to form the
canopy that called me to raise my eyes to the sky – to the glimpses of
it that were reflected on the leaves – a shot of blue and then grey,
chameleon style, as if to blend in with the changes in the atmosphere.
As I breathed in the forest it was like drawing in life itself – its
vitality transmitted. The accompaniment; a solitary cuckoo and a cascade,
competing with cowbells clanging in the valley below, and later, as I
returned to the pastures, the scent of clover that I can recall so clearly.
As I sit now, once again contained by four walls, the window frames a
view of the trees, evergreen and dressed for spring, as if I have snipped
a sample to remind me that at any time I can walk through the door, and
step into my picture.