True Colors

I am approaching a significant milestone in the numbering of my years. My assumptions about this age in my younger days were completely inaccurate. Unexpectedly, I don’t feel like death is imminent or that I should purchase a walker and Life Alert. I’m able to get up without assistance, I still have all my teeth, don’t need a hearing aid, can load my kayak on top of my car and can remember my children’s names. Not bad.
In the past three months, I have been relentlessly pursued and badgered by Medicare plans, AARP, and funeral insurance through countless mailings and phone calls. I’ve begun to raise my voice in protest to the unsolicited callers. I’ve had to navigate the bewildering tortuous circuitous world of health insurance. Probably designed by younger people.
The view from this position on my life line is quite different from the view at the teenage end. Sir Thomas Overbury was right when he said that all beauty is but skin deep. And, I will add, that the depth of skin decreases with age.
Two weeks ago, on my regular Sunday visit with my mom at her assisted living apartment, I admired the spectacular fall colors of the trees and bushes in the surrounding yard and flower beds. One particular bush – a Dwarf Fothergilla – had a few remaining leaves that were a stunning red orange with yellow veins. I carefully plucked it and carried it home to paint.
Since my Botany class at OSU, I’ve been fascinated with the science of the leaf.  During the young green working years of the leaf, the chloroplasts are busy producing food to sustain the plant. Then in the autumn, as the days shorten and the nights grow cold, the green chlorophyll disappears revealing the glowing yellow and orange pigments that were masked by the predominant green. The rich reds are produced only in the fall of its life if sugar is present in the leaf. No sweetness, no reds. So, the real beauty of the leaf lies hidden until youth begins to fade and its true colors are revealed.
In the fall, the grounds of the assisted living center glows with the beauty of many leaves. Living in apartments on the inside, are many “leaves” in the autumn of their lives. Most can’t see their true beauty, but God does. We look at the outside, but He looks on the heart.
I’m not ready for assisted living, but I hope, at this significant juncture in my life, my true colors are beginning to show through with the glow of His Spirit and a little touch of red.

This was a quick watercolor sketch in an attempt to capture the inner glow of the leaf and journal some thoughts and observations. It’s a significant departure from my usual style of attempted perfection and was quite freeing.