Not far from us is a wonderful biking trail that meanders through the Wisconsin countryside following the footprints of now ancient trains. One of the trail’s highlights is a series of long, cool tunnels through which the biker is instructed to dismount and walk his bicycle through the damp, dark catacombs of stone. After the tunnel’s visual void, emerging into the daylight is like a rebirth into a world of color and creation’s eye-candy.
I was reminded of those tunnels—dark and monochromatic—today as I reflected on why I am so “taken” by summer’s flowers. And so not a fan of winter. I’m a fuchsia-periwinkle-marine blue-teal kind of person. So waking midwinter to nothing but white, dirty white, and gray is the antithesis of the color palette that stirs me.
I gravitate toward the hot pinks and purples in the garden section. Every spring I tell myself I’ll try a more neutral theme for my hanging plants. Can’t do it.
Bright flowers rev my creative engines like a floral caffeine. Color caffeine. I take pictures when they’re at their peak so next January the hope for another spring, another summer ahead, will get me through another winter.
Ah. Snapshots of color for colorless seasons.
I write color-ing books. Not the kind that beg for Crayolas, but books that remind readers of the color that may be missing in their lives in a monochromatic season of grief or sadness or disillusionment or despair. I want to create pictures of the grace of God for seasons when my readers may not have seen a hint of it for a long stretch, through a dark tunnel that seems endless. Words can do that, can create photographs of hope that somewhere under the old snow lies a seed or bulb or rhizome itching to restore color to the scene.
“What is it you write?â€
When asked that question, I hope I remember to answer, “Color-ing books.â€
For writers: What thread of color can you trace through your stories? Hope? Redemption? Forgiveness? Reconciliation? Restoration?
For readers:Threads of deep scarlet are woven from the first to the last of the Bible. Entertwined threads of our need (“though your sins be as scarlet”) and God’s love expressed in the blood Jesus spilled for us. Even on the colorless days, can you catch a glimpse of that brilliant color?