There are few subtleties that I miss about home while travelling abroad. For the most part I’m usually so caught up in the sights, smells and sounds of a new environment to miss much of home. But one thing that tugs at my heart after I’ve been away for awhile are the colours of home.
Yesterday it was cold and rainy here at home. Light rain that is more like mist with a presence, sprinkled itself over the city and onto the leaves that glistened a slightly darker yet brighter shade of green. I remember back to when I was in Hong Kong, when I first started travelling abroad. I was at the top of Victoria Peak, walking through the bush track at the summit and out of nowhere the heavens opened. An expansive multitude of fat rain drops fell with a speed of urgency that I’d never seen before in my life. The rain here is in less of a hurry. The rain there saturated me within seconds.
Today the sun has come to play and the skies are a bright and very prominent shade of blue. The kind of hue that makes the ocean stand up straight and put on its best dress. Between the iridescent harbour and these bright cheerful skies, blue never seemed so blue. I remember back to my last night in Kuala Lumpur after my Kuwait trip. I was standing outside by a man-made lake with a newly made friend, talking late into the night. As we chatted and looked out at the city lights that danced on the silken lake, we discussed the beauty of the sight. In that moment I told her that I wished I could bring her the night sky. The air pollution and misty night made the skies a reflective brownish grey. No stars, no moon. Just a dull canopy of compacted mist. I wish I could’ve shown her the beauty of what we have here at home.
I travel to absorb the colours of the world, I come home again to put these colours into context.