True Colors

I remember reading once that the pale marble statues of ancient Greece were not originally white. Some theorize that they were actually painted all matter of gaudy, loud colors, and it wasn't just the statues, the temples were colorful too. What head trip it is to imagine the alabaster scenery of ancient Greece in rainbow. I always think about this in summer. I look around at the monotone of green on the trees and I feel I know a secret. For me the green isn't real. The brazen, kaleidoscopic tapestry of autumn at its peak is the true nature of Mother Nature in my book.

Like the ancient Greeks, nature is so much more complex than we'll ever understand. We study, we theorize, we gaze, but we'll never really know. And she knows it. And she laughs as the wind children dance and leaves fall around us in a psychedelic snowfall.

We try to capture it, draw it, photograph it, describe it, wear it, wax it, glue it, crayon and rub it... but it never quite works.

And it fades away, goes back to the earth, eludes our yearning. Leaving us with nothing but the reminder to live in the now and love what's around you while it's there.