Sat on the porch to ponder this morning. It’s was cool and damp. I watched a male cardinal nibbling from the platform feeder and saw him fly away. He landed on a sweet gum tree at the corner of the porch. The little tree, no taller than five feet, has somehow managed to hold on to all her fall leaves. Most trees in the yard were stripped of their remaining leaves during our last rain, but this little sweet gum is strutting her stuff. The leaves are a rainbow of reds and yellows and oranges. Such a beautiful picture when the cardinal perched on the sweet gum’s limb.

God has such a skilled paint brush. Think of all the glorious hues of the fall leaves. Don’t believe you can replicate the colors. When I flew to Rapid City, South Dakota I could see all the colors of the earth in the formation of the Badlands. I was curious why the area was called badlands but it’s extreme temperature, lack of water, and the rugged terrain attributed to its name. Lots of variations in the colors of the buttes and mesas. The land seemed to roll along out the plane window.

Thinking about all the colors made me think I might try and expound on my favorite colors of God’s palette. I think the deep blue color of the fall sky is a most favorite. Those first blue cloudless skies that bid summer adieu. I remember this year’s first blue sky morning because I did a little research about why the sky was so blue. That blue sky pairs so well with the changing leaves. Those shades of red, and orange and yellow are my next favorites.

Can’t forget all the beautiful bird feathers, too. Never knew how beautiful the grays and browns and blacks and oranges are on female cardinals till I watched them on feeders this fall. I’m always talking about the dowdiness of female birds but the changing of juvenile female cardinals to their adult plumage is a wonder. Even their beaks change color.

And all the greens in nature’ woods. Check out the scenery in spring when the trees bud. Only God could paint so intricately. Guess I’d have to count the pinks in a sunset, the light blue, thin, almost paint brush lines on yellow pansies and the different reds from a homegrown tomato. Guess I better stop with the colors.

I interviewed an artist once for a magazine feature. Such a beautiful soul. Yes, I know I use the word beautiful too much. She explained the concept of modern art. I never understood modern art till I spent the afternoon with her. She had also been a kindergarten teacher in her earlier years. I know those kids got an education. And expressed themselves creatively.

She said everyone sees colors and objects differently, yet we give a child a coloring picture of an apple we automatically give him a red crayon. He might see a green or purple or even black apple, it might be round or might be square, but we forced them into always seeing the apple as red and round. Now I understood!

When I was in college at Wesleyan the Ginko trees were a vibrant yellow in the fall. So beautiful on the campus. I walked by the trees going to class everyday. When the leaves started falling it was like a pool of sunshine around the tree trunks. One day I noticed one particular tree had one little leaf still hanging on a high branch. I watched it for three days imagining the leaf was trying to get the courage to let go and float gracefully down. Then I thought maybe it was petrified and was waiting for a storm wind to yank it off and blow it down. I actually walked by the day the leaf fell and smiled as I imagined the falling was a glorious ride once it started. I could almost hear a “Wahoooooo!”