The over-hybridized hot-house extravagance of fanciful orchids or the bombast of brash bedding annuals that never pause bloom until frost strikes them down can lead to a fatigue of excess color and saturation. At those times, I head out of the cultivated yards and the greenhouses, and find any small patch of wildflowers – which are to be found just about anywhere, such as behind the buildings of an outlet mall (in this care the Lee Outlets) where sections of ground have gone unmoved and untended, resulting in this little muted area of wildflowers and weeds.
The flower forms were simple, the colors were soft, and their structure was awkward, haphazard, and entirely lacking of order or organization. They were brilliant in their simplicity and softness. Seeing the scene was almost a relief to my vision – a break, a reset, a chance to cleanse the visual palette. Like a container of coffee beans between cologne samples.
In these very late days of spring, when all the world is brimming and overflowing with super-saturated colors and fragrances, one appreciates a moment of quiet, of delicious dullness. If all you experience is one extreme after another, eventually these scenes lose their magic and power – and stretches of time like winter become more desolate and bereft of charm. Reconnecting with quieter places and moments is a trick to even out the rollercoaster of spring barreling into summer.
Down time matters.
