At dinner with friends last week, I was attempting to describe the landscape that surrounds us everyday. That which they too see, but don’t see. I described the supposedly mundane experience of walking to get the newspaper from our driveway in the morning with the sun light reflecting on the trees; the cloud formations; the color of the vegetation; the smell of the air. Like a digital picture frame, the picture is constantly changing, depending on the angle of the sun, the strength of the breeze, and the movement of the clouds.
It is a reflection of one of the many subtle changes in my psyche from a year spent without color in the desert land of the UAE. Like a once blind woman, I can now see. I’ve always been surrounded by this kaleidoscope of colors, but I didn’t see it. I took it for granted. I stopped noticing, and never appreciated it. I never understood how much the environment fed my spirit.
When I first arrived in the UAE, I was smacked in the face with the absence of color. It felt unnatural and surreal, but I didn’t understand its effect on me until I returned to the extraordinarily colorful east coast of the US. Couples and families take weekend trips to the mountains to experience the changing leaves without acknowledging the colorful scenery surrounding them every day.
As I sit in my sunroom-cum-glass bubble, I am surrounded by natures Fall display and I revel in it. May my eyes remain unclouded by everyday noise.