There may be an adjustment or an approval of diminishing color during the winter months. With dormant perennials and bare trees, there is a starkness. Browns, blacks and scattered winter berries bring a glorious palette of muted colors which are especially nice on gray, murky days. When walking Birdie, my eye looks for and tries to match the colors I see with my various paint colors. Simple things like left over seed heads can be beautiful mixed in with the browns of surrounding grasses.
Even the simple turkey tail mushroom boasts its shades of brown and black; a mushroom that is used to treat depression, increase immunity and detoxify the system.
In this limited color range, I see sepia, raw umber, and raw sienna.
A scattering of rose hips and coralberry fruit, normally not considered bright and colorful, are now beautiful.
If I time it right, a bit of morning sun hits this magnificent American sycamore, a tree that is always best viewed in winter, a tree that rivals more northern white birch with its stark white branches. The idea of seeing the light hit it as the sun comes up is a motivator to get going, survey the browns and complementary colors, watch the birds eat from this natural field of bird food.
In a field close by there are many, some not nearly as white as this one. Is it age, genetics?
Many years ago, I created a board of photographs from magazines, the images needed to speak to me emotionally before they were cut and pasted onto the board (an exercise to ferret out my base desire or direction). To my shock and dismay, it turned out to be a winter board. I concluded that isolation and muted colors might actually be my favorite subjects, and if there is any kind of a message here, it's go walk in a wild place on a gray day in winter, not once but often. It will probably grow on you.
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