My favorite colors haven’t changed since I was five years old. I still love Fire-Engine Red, Rubber-Ducky Yellow, Sky Blue and Forest Green. There have been a few occasions where I think to myself, wow, peach is a really pretty color, or I kind of like periwinkle a bit, but in the end I never stray from the basic four. This is the way it has always been.
Until the other day, when I went to the park, and The Season of Fall in Spain forced me to love new colors. I had no choice. I saw colors I have never seen before.
Side note: I have taken into account the fact that I’ve lived in Southern California my whole life, and therefore my idea of seasonal change means just a little bit of rain in December; however, I am pretty confident in my belief that even someone from Oregon or Montana, or wherever they have real seasons, would agree with me on the following:
If you could see the way the pale, golden sunlight hits the glossy part of the leaves and makes them shimmer and dance, or if you could watch the sun go down as a backdrop of soft oranges and pinks blankets the sky, or if everything around you was sparkling and swaying with the wind in hues of deep, vivacious reds and oranges and browns and yellows, you would probably catch the next flight to Madrid before the season of fall ends. What I have seen is unreal, and walking through the park is nothing short of enchanting.