Colours

 
The sunlight  had turned the water droplets on the fruit cage into a jewel encrusted spectacle . The trees had been washed clean of their summer dust , leaves ,a freshness hanging in the morning stillness . A day of the first rain in over 6 weeks had transformed all around into a kaleidoscope. I set off around  the fields exploring those colours , with Donovan’s song reverberating within my cranium .

Green is the colour of …. our new sprung grass in this morning. Its almost miraculous how a day's rain had transformed apparently dead yellow into green shoots .

Russet is the colour of the pine needles newly cast-off by the trees, to conserve water . The vibrancy of their colours contrasting with previous annual shedding .

The ferns too had responded to the drought by starting their winter hibernation early ; turning the colour of copper .

These colours contrasted with the dark dank oak leaves rotting on the floor . Here and there were lighter patches of newly turn soil , evidence of sanglier incursion . A 14,000 volt electric fence providing for them a minor inconvenience  . I have run out of passive deterrence  . Time to join the ranks of the chasseurs.

Looking up, Les Albères had been spruced up , rain restoring  a palet of colours . These too were accentuated by the white of the rolling mist ; the last remnants of that welcomed rainy day ( tourists probably not matching my enthusiasm) .