Shades of Yellow.

"Toad talked big about all he was going to do in the days to come, while stars grew fuller and larger all around them, and a yellow moon, appearing suddenly and silently from nowhere in particular, came to keep them company and listen to their talk." 
                                                                       
                                                                      - Kenneth Grahame.


Up until about two weeks ago, there were still more leaves on the trees than on the ground. But now, enormous piles of raked, sodden maple leaves line the sidewalks and accordingly, the landscape has shifted. The horizon that lay hidden by the buds of spring and the lush green foliage of summer has stepped out from behind the high-noon sun to reveal a neighbourhood grid, church steeples and the lofty dome of St. Joseph's Oratory. The view strikes me as austere - in truth a bit melancholy - when seen from a high point, but it's beautiful, too. Beautiful in its simplicity, how the greyish-brown branches reach out past the cool light of a pale blue sky, how Jupiter pierces the November night sky a little more fiercely than it does in July.


What does this have to do with the colour yellow? Mostly that I have been surrounded by shades of yellow and gold and amber for weeks now and I wanted to write about it before it's all gone. You'll have to wait for spring for the soft pale shade of a daffodil, but for now, there's this.