Yellowness

We walked through the tall mustard yesterday in howling wind, dazzled by the yellowness of it, and the yellowness transported me through time and I was young again. I can’t explain it, but the world was bright with 1960s Kodacolor hues, gloriously garish, and I might suddenly be kissed or chase a butterfly or dream my way into somewhere that I never knew existed.

Remember the saffron glow of lamplight through the windows of old houses and the yellow awnings of the city shops and amber cologne in a bottle on the bureau and the yellowing pages of the books you loved most? One day I heard the bright clanging of a bell that marked what might have been my own life’s grand opening, and the streets were drenched in sunlight. I wore a yellow dress, and shone with unimagined possibilities.

It all came back to me as I time-traveled in the hills, and none of it was over.