Yellow

When I checked the prompt for today, I knew exactly which picture I wanted to share. Last week, when I was visiting my aunt at Gleneden Beach on the Oregon Coast, we walked down to the ocean from her house and next to the beach access path, someone had left their bikes. The people were obviously somewhere down on the sand, and the bikes waited for them to return, resting on a splash of yellow flowers. Something about that scene stopped me, made me want a picture of it, captured so perfectly for me what summer is like.

Then this morning, as I was sitting at my desk writing, I paused and looked up, noticing all the yellow around me — the Sharpie highlighter I use to mark the date of each entry in my journal (it makes it easier to find a specific one when I’m searching for something), the yellow edge on the plastic bag containing the shells and agates I collected on that same walk on the beach last week, the gold of the inside of the cover of the Pema Chödrön book I’m reading, and the yellow sun my pen pal Kerilyn Russo doodled on the back of the letter she just sent me.