Fifty shades of green

When I try and think of London, I can picture only the grey of the streets and the harsh neon colours of Piccadilly Circus; the white walls of my old office and the dull beige curtains of our old flat. Colour, unsurprisingly, was not one of my main preoccupations.

This all changed the moment we arrived in Tuscany. We visited a number of little towns including Orvieto and Volterra, though it was San Gimignano that truly stole my heart – a small walled medieval hill town in the province of Siena, almost like a self-defined island amidst the sprawling Tuscan hills. The town itself was very pretty, consisting of beautiful churches and piazzas, picturesque streets and towers.

But it was the landscape that took my breath away. Having spent practically no time in the countryside previously, my knowledge of the colour green was elementary – grass is green, trees are green. And yet here was an entire universe of just this one colour.

There were illuminating, parrot green trees that made sure we all knew it was still summer. But then there were thicker, darker green trees that were a reminder of the inevitability of autumn. The silvery green trees were almost a tease, making me think of Christmas though it was only the beginning of September. And, of course, the cypress trees – typical of the Tuscan region – stood tall and proud, the natural protectors of this beautiful landscape.

Wrapped up in the walls of the town was a peaceful courtyard – the only sound came from the drifting melodies of the harpist in the corner. Though surrounded by high walls and therefore unable to actually see the landscape, it was impossible not to feel the beauty that engulfed us.

It reminded me, once again, of the importance of standing still – not just literally, but also figuratively. Human nature is such that we are always so preoccupied with what we feel we must avoid and, by contrast, what we aspire to have/be that we rarely just stop and look around at life as it is.

Each moment counts, and there is colour and life everywhere. Just look around, and you will see it. I want to take the time out of every day – no matter how busy it might feel – to appreciate everything: the infinite universe of colour, the signs that tell us (sometimes subtly, sometimes explicitly) that a new season is about to begin, and the knowledge that the world is beautiful just as it is.  

I hope – no, I know – that when I return to London, I will see more than just grey and beige. And I will allow more than just a cursory glance at my surroundings. I want to internalise everything I see, every place I go to, adding it all to my mind’s memory bank, enriching my eyes’ colour scale, and sharpening my understanding of the richness of the world.