These first two days on the trail, I find myself between two expanses of blue, the dome of the sky and the bowl of the water. More blue than I’ve been around for weeks. These two limitless expanses of material cannot be contained or held. They are formless and far-reaching. How can I quantify color? I have decided to map every blue that I see as we hike along Chester Creek, and the more I mark on my list, the more I see the number of blue man-made objects outstretches the number of blue things in nature. The wave of the sky and wash of the West Chester Lagoon are grand, but they only number two. There are so many blue articles of clothing that I stop counting and noting specific garments.
Azure. Cerulean. Cyan. Cobalt. Indigo. Navy. Beryl. Sapphire. Teal. Turquoise. Ultramarine. Sky. Sea. Blue-gray. Blue-green. Royal blue. Electric blue. As I turn my eyes unceasingly towards blue objects, I find the limits of language. I note the variations in tone and hue and feel the inadequacy of words. I thought there were so many names for blue and yet I am quickly at the end of my list and I stumble over how to locate their differences within language. Each spot, swathe, and stripe of blue is its own color and yet I arrive at a moment when I stop trying to differentiate them all. They are beautiful as a mass, in all their variation.