As the yard began to brown

Green is the color of life, and for today I am wrapped in a quilt of it on grass and fern and hanging tree boughs.

Brown comes next, it is already on the edges of the sword fern, the cedars, the flecks of wool woven in my sweaters, waiting in my bedroom drawers.

Brown is overtaking the hillsides in a mottled tussle with green. On the undersides of the large maple, the wisteria: it’s like brown is the true nature of green, the next layer down.

It is not a foreign thing or an invader. It’s maybe just the absence of what came before.

Let me lay in the sun so that I can turn brown, the color of a deep roux. A peanut butter brown, the desert brown that stretches as far as the eye can see.

The sun gives us the green of life to start, the brown of endurance to keep going. It could be like the signs of our own aging, it comes on slowly then all at once.



Categories: poetry, writing

Tags: ,

24 replies

  1. Just to run with your analogy, brown can also be ripening, right? Like those Asian pears or boscs, my favorite, brownish and kind of mottled, the green ones usually don’t have much flavor.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Should have brought my glasses in to Maccas to see your picture properly. Nevermind a message arrived cancelling my next job so I’m able to sit in (on paid time) drinking coffee that is a shade of the theme colour today.
    To Brown To life!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Got to fly… someone waiting for compression stockings to be added to the their day. If I get a choice they are going to be brown today.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Have a long list of places I think you will love in Australia.

    Like

  5. I love a sunburnt country,
    A land of sweeping plains,
    Of ragged mountain ranges,
    Of droughts and flooding rains.
    I love her far horizons,
    I love her jewel-sea,
    Her beauty and her terror –
    The wide brown land for me!
    By Dorothea Mackellar,

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I like this! Aging as seasonal shifts … not an annual cycle of 4 seasons, but a single progression of seasons each changing not only externals but inner perspectives, all matter of things! The curious thing is how many more shifts/seasons am I destined to experience? We don’t all have the same patterns!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Down here, the sun maketh all things green, yet also taketh green away. What’s green in the spring gets burnt to a crisp in summer. It’s a grinding, duplicitous fellow, this sun of which you speak. Must add water. Lots.

    Liked by 1 person

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