We wait many months in Maine for our "ideal" summer to arrive...those sunny days on the water, picnics on weathered tables with a bouquet of wild flowers in an old glass jar and damp towels hanging on porch railings. In the meantime, we have something in between...the emerald green of June. The color is so rich and saturated, it's as if it is not of this world. Now, the early signs of spring are long gone and steady rain and mist soak the earth. If you could hear green, I think the sound would be a low rumble of pleasure.
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Beautiful. Our ferns are just this color now. Yesterday at the symphony after a piano performance by Andre Watts, my friend leaned over & whispered that the music was like a brilliant silken textile.
ReplyDeleteOh, that path to the bluff, middle photo....
ReplyDeleteBarbara, thank you! It was the color of the ferns that inspired the post. I love your friend's analogy...the performance must have been wonderful!
ReplyDeleteDilettante, I never tire of that path...have been walking it for years. I think it's always prettiest in June.
My symphony friend Anne is simply irreplaceable. She teaches me to see the world in differend ways everyday. I just posted a Cassatt teaset for you.
ReplyDeleteBarbara, I'm certain she feels the same way about you!
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