Kiki, at Awake with Charm & Spirit, created a vibrant post, The Color Essence of Blues, in both words and photos that told her story of blue. She invited others to post their story of blue, too. So here is my photo story of blue, a color that inspires joy, harkens to sorrow, and yet calms the soul.
Navy, periwinkle, skye, baby, robin egg blue…blue emanates from above, below and in the very center of my being. Down a country road on an early evening in June, a golden wheat field capped with heavenly blue whispers in a subtle breeze.
“A wondrous, woven magic in bits of blue and gold.”
~Carole King Tapestry
Larger than life, Munchkin land vibrant flowers grow in a small circular bed in Van Wert, Ohio. The blue metal art flowers come from the imagination of Robbie Adams of the Van Wert Street Artists.
“Blue oblivion, largely lit, smiled and smiled at me.”
~William R. Benet
One afternoon, I sped past a road heading for my sister’s home. Out of the corner of my eye I spied two long borders of blue stretching down each side of a back road. I didn’t have time to stop, but I vowed I’d return in a few days to take some photos of the blue drift. On an early Sunday morning, I returned.
“I cannot decide, but this I know…it is some blue flower.”
~Alice Morse Earle
Chicory is the color of blue I want in my next garden. A powerful, electric blue as a bud that softens with age.
“Blue thou art, intensely blue; Flower whence came thy dazzling hue?”
In humble attitude I walked Woodlawn Cemetery on an Indian summer Sunday in November snapping photos of angelic statues, scenic hills, and autumn color. Amidst the stories of the past a chapel rises with a blue window that captured the light.
“Oh! darkly, deeply beautiful blue. As someone somewhere sings about the sky.”
Blue is a color, a place, a music genre, and a feeling. Just a few months ago I captured my grandson sitting on his skateboard, his posture emphasizing his earlier words, “Mimi..I’m lonely.” For a moment he was little boy blue breaking my heart and in the pass of the sun from beneath a cloud, he hopped on his board and performed an ollie.
“When ever I feel blue, I start breathing again.” ~L. Frank Baum
The painting on the wall speaks to me of simplicity in blue. A street café, washing on the line, and winding streets that wander through unknown towns and cities. The Doug Fiely painting belongs to my daughter.
“Reeling—through endless summer days, From inns of molten blue.”
A pot of lobelia hung in the frame of an arbor in Bryan, Ohio’s Central Park made me smile. Lobelia has long been a favorite flower for planting in the shade, along with a myriad of other annuals that create overflowing planters and beds.
The important thing is to know this flower, look at its color until the blueness becomes as real as a keynote of music.”
Outside, over there stands a blue spruce. I look out at it every day as I dream of other places, other times, and of him”
“And blue so far above us comes so high,
It only gives our wishes for blue a whet.”
For five years every Craigville Beach sunset on Cape Cod that I witnessed became a gift. For who knew that time in my paradise would draw to a close and the world of blue ocean become something new.
“And the day climbs down from its blue-loft bed on a slanting ladder of sunbeams, pauses a moment between the trees, airy-light young.”
Please take time to check out Awake with Charm & Spirit. While you're there you'll find links to more blogs that embrace the story of blue in the comment section.