One summer's day, when I was 24, I was cycling along a country lane near my parent’s house. The sun shone in a cloudless blue sky and the shade was dappling, as I rode along beneath tall deciduous trees. There was a point when the sun shone across my pathway in such a way that it temporarily caused me to lose sight of my surroundings. Everything went white. Disoriented, I stopped pedalling and the momentum of the bicycle took me along. During that small space of time everything within my experience seemed to slow down and stop. The moment seemed to linger, and then I pulled on the brakes. I found myself facing a bright green leaf from an over hanging tree, and the light shone through its surface to create a limey brilliance. This was the first time I ever really saw the colour green - actually really saw the colour green. I understood it as a vibration, a frequency, and I was absorbed. I stared and stared, until eventually the sun moved and the light and colour gave way to a textured surface of glaucous and deeper greens and reddish tints, all enmeshed within the structure of the leaf.
It was at this point in my life that I embarked upon a journey to understand colour. Since this small but significant event, it has been flowers; leaves; fruits; and roots; that have taught me all I know about the way colour relates through a scale of light and dark; saturated and neutral; warm and cool. When anyone ever asks me how do I learn about colour? I suggest looking at the world of plants. As part of their gifting, they offer us the world of colour.