Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Wrestling with God

Home
New Visions
It Wasn’t Enough to Enjoy Those God-Given Wildflowers. I Had to Give Them Names

It Wasn’t Enough to Enjoy Those God-Given Wildflowers. I Had to Give Them Names

Last updated on: March 29, 2016 at 12:01 am by Barbara Falconer Newhall

It Wasn’t Enough to Enjoy Those God-Given Wildflowers. I Had to Give Them Names 2016-03-28T19:35:48-08:00 Barbara Falconer Newhall

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

These wildflowers glowed magenta to pink in the full summer sun. Photo by Barbara

By Barbara Falconer Newhall

Were those wildflowers purple? Indigo? Cerise? Or what? It was impossible to tell for sure. I had spotted a tall stand of fireweed growing on the edge of a woodlet in the Pacific Northwest, and I was walking around and around it, trying to get a bead on the flowers’ elusive color.

I took photos, lots of them, and, sure enough, when I pulled the captured images up on my monitor back home, I still couldn’t tell what color they were. Their hue had changed day by day and minute by minute during my visit to their home in the

When the sun dropped low over the San Juan Islands the fireweed fell into the shade and the petals turned purple, violet and lavender. Photo by Barbara Newhall

woods, and they were doing the same on my computer screen. I Googled myself over to Wikipedia to see where the colors fit on the color wheel. But no sooner had I spotted some promising color charts — including Goethe’s eighteenth-century color wheel — than I realized it was time to meet an old friend for lunch.

Westerners Like to Name Things

As I dug into my feta and spinach phyllo over at La Mediterranee in Berkeley, my friend, a Buddhist, turned the conversation to the Western mind’s tendency to judge, make distinctions, and assign things to categories, including colors. Our brains get so busy putting things in their place—naming them—she said, we forget to . . .

Forget to what? I can’t remember. What was it my friend wanted me to know? Something about being open to what’s real, to what’s right in front of you, except she said it way better than that.

My lunchmate was making a lot of sense. But as I moved my fork from the piquant feta and spinach on my plate to the cinnamony chicken cilicia, my thoughts strayed to

The backside of a blossom: magenta pink with violet shadows and a splash of crimson at the base of the petals. Photo by Barbara Newhall

my plans for the afternoon. As soon as I got home, I promised myself, I’d reboot my computer, look at my wildflowers, and get the exact names of their hues from the experts.

Naming things has a long and venerable history in Western culture. God himself invited Adam to name the birds of the sky as well as all the animals, wild and domestic.

Human-Style Words for God-Given Wildflowers

Lunch over, back home, I set my inner Westerner free. A few clicks of the mouse, and there they were, an array of stunning colors to choose from: cornflower blue, heliotrope, violet, mauve, magenta pink, crimson, lavender — words as evocative as their subjects.

I’m pretty sure that my Buddhist friend, Westerner born and bred that she is, would like them as much as I do.

More Pacific Northwest flora at “San Juan Islands Flora: Or, I Cling, Therefore I Am.” Feeling political? Here are some quotes from the Pope and the Donald.

A weedy stand of fireweed grows six feet tall at the edge of a San Juan Islands wood. True to its name, fireweed grows in woodsy places disturbed by fire. Photo by Barbara Newhall

God-given wildflowers. Stalks of dead fireweed that has turned silver-gray, in the San Juan Islands, WA, in November. Barbara Newhall photo

The same patch of fireweed in November — silvery white. Barbara Newhall photo

Previous Post

March 22, 2016

Miracle on Planet Earth

Next Post

April 5, 2016 Punishing the Woman Who Gets an Abortion -- Why Not?

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category Uncategorized

Select a Month January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 September 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016 February 2016 January 2016 December 2015 November 2015 October 2015 September 2015 August 2015 July 2015 June 2015 May 2015 April 2015 March 2015 February 2015 January 2015 December 2014

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

What does "Pentecost" mean?

Select your answer to see how you score.

Twelfth Fiftieth Twentieth First