Mornings

It was too cold and I wanted to stay under the covers. I don't like getting up but I love getting away. Being in love with the cold morning outside. Even though it is summer the wind is fierce and the sun is pale. Sometimes the light warms you, and fools you into thinking it is hot – a hot day. But all it takes is a cloud or stroll into the shadows and the truth of the place, the real cold, hits you skin and deep. But that sky is something else, that morning sky! There are many kinds of sky haze. The haze of the setting sun as the mountains disappear into golden silt. Morning haze is different. It is mist and sleep. It is clouds stretched thin and spread clumpy and bumpy like the surface of new ice cream. Shadows are long and blue. The grass is also blue. As is the road, my skin, the lake, the trees. It is the bluest part of the day. It is cobalt blue. Twilight is more like ultramarine but flatter. A colour I can't remember the name of. I like knowing the names of colours. Or rather – I like seeing colours out there and knowing how to mix them. When I see the purple I remember it for later. When I know that cobalt, it will come with me to my new studio.