My teenage years were filled with rainbows, unicorns and Shawn Cassidy. As a remnant of the eighties, I favored pastel parcels and white chalk dust on charcoal.
Imagine we lived in a world that’s all of a sudden devoid of color, but where you’re given the option to have just one object keep its original hue. Which object (and which color) would that be?
When the Daily Prompt asked this question, it made me realize how far from that teenager I really am. I rejected bright and pink and shiny years ago. Today, a person could look at my garden, home décor and photography catalog and immediately identify the color I’d preserve in a world vacant of others. Pick a single object? This is where I stumble off the beaten path and celebrate everything that is my favorite color.
Rust is the shade of Autumn,
Rust was the sunrise on the morning my daughter was born
and the colored leaves peppering the sidewalk when we brought my son home six years later.
The promise of Rust lured me out of bed this morning,
cured my writer’s block,
put me in a better mood,
and pleaded for me to grab my camera again.
Rust reminds me that life is beautiful,
ancient, fleeting, decaying
all in the same glance.
These are the post-it notes I keep at arm’s length lest I forget.