Seen and Loved Before

Just as Monday comes with its own kind of energy, its own optimism, Friday, too, is a comfortable companion. A little moody but calming, inviting us to unwind. Even more so if it’s raining or snowing. Today was a sunny bluebird day, which I cannot deny loving after so little sunshine this summer.

A few years ago I discovered that I have a favorite color palette. I didn’t know this about myself until I was 47 years old. I’ve always favored green, of course, but an entire palette? It includes various shades of fir and hemlock green, with a little spruce mixed in. Deep and muted. The smooth steel grey of beech bark, the dark charcoal of leafless maple, and the almost-white of papery birch. There’s also golden amber. Even a little copper. The colors of late season tamarack, of decaying leaves clinging to beech. If a combination of colors could lower someones heart rate, this one does mine.

I made this color discovery about myself when we first moved here. The warm golds, greys, greens, and the smallest touch of creamy white were first presented to me that November. You see, this beautiful palette is filled with the colors of the East Ridge in November. We notice it as we drive off our own ridge. 

Just as the curtain closes on foliage and the leaf peepers have returned to their homes, it’s me and these grey-green-golden hills. Feels like we’ve got the place to ourselves for a short while. .

As the pieces of this kitchen come together, I notice something emerging. Something familiar. It took a while to put my finger on it, but I finally have. It seems what we have going on here, in this new heart of our home, is a familiar color story. One that I have seen and loved before. One that is reminiscent of the East Ridge in November. Of course it is. Hello, old friend. I’m glad you are here. If it’s okay with you, I may never leave.