There are colors here. All sorts of colors.
This morning the line on the horizon reminded me of the hot coils of an old toaster. Last week the sun came out of the water like a giant honey dip donut, dripping melted sugar into the flattest, calmest blue – the blue of the perfect blue eye – I could ever remember.
The grays are grayer, the greens of a greater range of green than my imagination would have guessed. I was sitting at the table last weekend and on the harbor side there was a shimmer on the water like the reflection of a billion razor blades, while on the ocean side there were long breaking, turquoise and somehow red, waves wacking up against the shore and the big jetty.
There is a tint on the rocks at about 5:15 each night that makes you recall scenes from movies when the alien ship arrives and the light show is other worldly. At night there is the orange from the lights across the harbor – the clearer white light of the church steeple above a line of what could be candy Dots from the parking lots. There is black rain here – hitting the sand to darken and spill out into the cove so that the harbor become a piece of slate – the gulls look like lines of chalk against it.
The lighthouse itself is several colors of white as the light moves around it – think of a table cloth that has survived the childs\’ table at a holiday – the purest white to the murkiest white – it all depends on the clouds and the sun and the time of day.
I have barely scratched the surface of what we see each day and then there are all the sounds and smells to describe. Come on back soon for the follow up.
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