Cool Saturday mornings materialise at the end of the tunnel that leads back to reality from the noplace called Dreamland. Rare appearances of the sun put their elusive, but warm marks on the milky curtain outlining the blurred shadows of the maple leaves on it, here and there.
It was always one of the best ways to slide back into the Saturday morning - watch the maple leaf shadows projected by the sun on the curtains. The curtains seem to be the changing variable, from light white material with fairly tale characters to vibrant teenage orange, then calm grown-up green, and finally, forward-looking and anticipating dark chocolate. The latter never became the part of the morning routine, mostly remaining a decoration in the place that was being made gezellig but never happened to become home.
There is a new temporary home now, with milky curtains with no pretension, as if a blank canvas on the easel in the corner of the painter’s studio. They only reflect the shadows of maple leaves today and now, hinting it is all I have and at the same time it is there to be painted again into whichever colour I would want to take me over. Maybe, the colour of strawberry juice next to my bed filling me with reddish freshness of Strawberry Fields Forever, or the Tender Blue of mellifluous and slightly cheesy music line from the speakers - "…I always hold a place for you in my heart…”, or the indiscreet colour that is implied within the magnetic smell of my morning pillow on this Saturday morning (it tends to be more attractive in the mornings, isn’t it?)...
“First the colours.
Then the humans.
That’s usually how I see things. Or at least, how I try”.
(Prologue of Death from "Book Thief”)
Those Saturday mornings, full of light, scents, bliss and colour :)
