Blue, Pink, Orange, Purple, Green

Last weekend I landed in a funk.  I attributed it to too much naptime.  But I checked with The Man, and he said that he felt it himself.  And the blue feeling hung around for a while.  I didn’t help it much.  I read some gloomy posts on various blogs on the web.  I listened to lots of “Blue” songs:  “Little Girl Blue” by Nancy Wilson, “Almost Blue” by Elvis Costello, “Red-Eyed and Blue” by Wilco, “Blue” by the Jayhawks, “When the Stars Go Blue” by Ryan Adams (you get the picture).

I’d not noticed before.  Well, maybe I did and didn’t remember.  All the pretty pink flowers on the roadside.  They are everywhere this year.  And beautiful.  I just found out this year that they are called primroses.  I had always called them “buttercups,” knowing somehow that was wrong.  I had to look them up on Google images to get the correct name.  And I became a bit bummed, knowing as spring heated up here in Houston they would disappear (at least until next spring).

As I was driving to the gym one evening after work this week, I caught a glimpse of the setting sun hanging on the horizon in a spectacular glow of orange.  And I caught a special pang of melancholy, where the past that I loved seemed so devastatingly far away.  I found myself missing all the people that I knew I would never see again, separated from me by death, by ruined relations or by miles.  It only lasted for a minute or two, but it was sufficient.  The orange of the sun punctuated the blue of my past week.

We have a Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow shrub by our front door.  If you are not familiar with the plant, it blooms purple flowers that over days turn to violet and then to white.  I noticed earlier this week that the shrub was covered with buds about to bloom.  I pointed it out to The Man, and he became excited (he’s so cute – he gets thrilled by the simplest things).  He doesn’t need much to get him over the blues.

Today, I was in the garage.  Knowing that The Man was in the office, I used the remote on my iPhone to cue up and play “(They Long to Be) Close to You” by the Carpenters on my computer’s speakers.  Minutes later, he peeked out the door and said “Come with me.”  I followed him into the office.  “Start it from the beginning.”  I set the song to the beginning, and he held up his hands.  I laughed and pulled him close to me.  We danced around the office.  I pulled back just enough to look into his beautiful green eyes.

And suddenly my blues were gone.

Photos - Cane Rosso (blue), The Marmot (pink), Ollie Crafoord (orange), Carl E. Lewis (purple), Nathan F (green)