When the children were younger I would point out the colours as we drove together. I even commented on the deep golden yellow of the cornfields. As well, I would say how the cows looked so lovely and reddish brown against the green fields. I couldn't understand why the kids weren't oooing and ahhhing about all the pretty colours. Maybe I just appreciated them more.
This would occur the next autumn as well, me going on and on about the beautiful colours. Even the weeds in the ditches were lovely. Yellows and purples complementing each other. The silver maples, showing the silvery undersides of their leaves in the wind were also pretty. The only one who seemed to marvel over these beautiful colours was me.
And then one day my daughter pointed out to me that it was my sunglasses. She said I should take them off. Yes indeed. I'd been seeing the world literally through rose coloured glasses.
Normally I can be a bit of a negative grouch.I don't sugar-coat things, or hand out false complements. I am not one of those constantly happy people who always sees the good in everything. I'm probably somewhere in the middle of complete depressive and insanely joyous. But I really, really loved what the world looked like through those sunglasses. Everything was gorgeous and perfect and technicolour.
When we were on vacation in Cuba one March, I had set down my sunglasses with the rose coloured lenses in a washroom and forgot to pick them up on my way out. When I realized what I had done and went back to the washroom, they were gone. I did bring another pair of sunglasses with me, so I used those instead. When we returned home after the vacation, it wasn't too long before I was looking for another pair of sunglasses through which I could see a perfect world. I do not require designer sunglasses. They do not have to be expensive or act like a status symbol. They just have to be rose coloured.
|These are not my sunglasses. My first ones were white framed, and my current ones have a tortoise shell frame, but these are cute, too.|