Orange and Purple

Initially we came across this lovely Monarch with his wings open and I was caught for a moment at the brilliance of orange against a purple backdrop. We had startled each other so he didn’t hang around for a photo, but once we had both collected our wits, he returned again to land where I had first seen him.

There is always that desire to have the perfect photo however much it takes us away from experiencing the magic of the moment. At times I resolve to commit the natural wonders I come across to memory. I commit to soaking up the visual, recording the audio with my ears and my spirit.

Last night the sound was silence as I sat in the cool autumn evening. In fact the silence was striking. I tried to bring some portable music onto the scene but weak connections and too much fuss, got in the way of the simplicity of the moment. I eventually surrendered.

I write this now sitting in a cafe, where a man many feet away can be heard. He has one of those voices which would be gold in the theatre, vibrating at a resounding and low frequency, but the heavy laborious droning and monotonous lack of inflection is killing me. I have plugged my earbuds into my head — I bought them for the gym, but they seem to fall out at the most intense moments of muscle contraction and they prevent me from the light hearted banter with my other gym colleagues. They are much appreciated right now at this moment, almost blocking the basso profundity of the cafe guy.

If I can imprint the intense orange of the Monarch and let the silence of last evening permeate my spirit in those moments, I can access that memory when I most need to, in a place where colours may be few or sounds may pollute my peace. I will have to put down the camera sometimes, tuck away the sound systems and remind myself of what it means to be in the moment.

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