This looks like Lavender itself billowing across water — sunset clouds spilled from the heavenly realm onto land and lake and leaving behind an icy sky bereft of color.
In Beverly Hills, near that winding way of tall palms whose image seems required in every L.A. movie, there is a set of parallel streets, each entirely planted with one species of trees. My first spring in Los Angeles, I stumbled upon the street of blooming Jacarandas. Standing edge to edge, they were as solidly lavender as this photo, ragged lavender spheres above a flawless lavender carpet of fallen petals. I got out of the car and stared, knowing that never again would I stand in such a landscape. The air was lavender, the reflections on my car, the glint on my glasses, even my thoughts shimmered with the vibrant presence of these Jacaranda blossoms.
It reminded me of that classic old cartoon where a tree stands in green and brown and suddenly the eraser end of an unseen artist’s pencil sweeps in and rubs away the green. A paintbrush applies – lavender – what more cartoon-like color is there? What color so seldom found in quantities in nature and certainly not on a tree?
Yet there I was in the midst of this natural miracle. And in this photograph I see that moment, something too beautiful to be examined.