It’s the colour of blood. It’s the pride of Utah. It’s the nature of Betelgeuse. And it’s sorely missing from my daily life.

Vancouver is a kingdom of blues and greens – the changing blue of the ocean, the lush green of everpresent forests; the blues when it rains for too long, the greens that wanted peace.

Our municipal police colours reflect it. The Canucks abide it. The new West Coast theme at work proves it. Subdued colours, easy colours, passive colors. But where are the passion of reds, the warmth of oranges and the brilliance of yellows? Where is rebellion and what about fire?

I long for the orange glow of a sunset in Arches National Park, for lava flowing down the slopes of a raging volcano, for the red rocks of Canyonlands, for the pink hoodoos of Bryce at sunrise, for the infinite red rainbow of stone in Antelope Canyon, for the dark red wines of Napa Valley, for the blood-tainted soil of l’Estérel, for bright red tiles on the roofs of Provence…

I dream of a harsh and inhospitable Mars while standing on our lush and fluid Earth. What a contradiction! But never mind the grass; the rocks are always redder on the other side of the fence.