Monday, June 24, 2013


The year is blue. It always has been and it always will be. Not in a sad way; don't get me wrong. It's just there, changing the color of the world, every day, every month, every season.

It is an undercurrent, not the green of life or the thrill of red, but it is there tying it all together, in the distant hills on the horizon.

In winter it's that icey blue. It's chilling and crisp and sends you into a yellow glow for warmth.
With spring it finds its way into the flowers and dyes the sky deeper.
Over summer it's in the waves and the dresses of the pretty girls, coated in butter sunshine.
And in the fall it's there among all those bright reds, tinting the grey, peeking out from between the clouds, rebuilding the year again.

photo credits: picture 1, picture 2, picture 3, picture 4. All found via Pinterest

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