HAPPY PRIDE DEPT.
The View needed cheering up. Why pink? Pink = sublime. Plus it’s got Bazzazz!
Your Gay Pride Pink-apalooza issue features an erudite essay about interior decorating from our gayest reporter. Then, ‘Pop That Pessimism!’ as our special update of “The Makeover of Lopez Canyon” pulls you into a meadow full of pretty pink flowers. But first, Kay Thompson:
THE ADAM FAMILY IN THE PINK
I noticed in the prints of my Scotland pictures that everything in the Lowlands has a nimbus of pink about it. I thought it was cheap film that had degraded, so I had them digitized. The images returned and look beautiful, much clearer than the prints; but, pink. I think that’s just how Scotland looks. It’s WAY far North, and gets the sun’s long rays, for its many short days. Add a humid, temperate, mist-bound climate, and it’s a recipe for plenty of pink sky in the mornings and afternoons. [Scotland also has plenty of industry producing what we would call smog; and it has, since at least 1750.] Whatever the cause, I realized it’s part of what gives the place a rosy glow in my mind’s eye.
Colorized, but they chose pink 
Pink is one of the signature colors of Venice, another place where the sun often rouges the misty air’s cheek. In the Neo-classical heyday of the 18th century, Venetians made an art out of bringing their beautiful pink light indoors:
It was during the Grand Tour, when Scotland’s artists and aristocrats toured Italy and brought back treasures, that the pink light and pink rooms inspired tastemakers. They tried to achieve a similar sublime effect in the satin skyglow of hame, and succeeded nobly. The great Adam family of architects and designers, whose influence is unrivaled in Britain and America, led the way in making pink — the pale pink of misty clouds on a gentle afternoon — the most elegant Neo-classical color of them all. Note how swank the green accents are.
Old College Library, Edinburgh
The Edinburgh version of Neo-classical style was wildly popular. Pink works better in Scotland, in fact, than Venice: not only is the sky pink, but the native plants and heather are pink, too (or were); and the very rocks in the rills are pink! And, there are green forests and grasses to complement it perfectly (which there isn’t much of in Venice.) Thus, the gentle, soothing pink and green of the outdoors, was brought indoors, in the heyday of Scottish design.
from Scotland, of course! It looks like hame.
THE TRANSFORMATION OF LOPEZ CANYON, Pt. 6
This June brought my first sighting up there of Island pink yarrow. Tiny, exquisite against the June gloom skies, they are so perfectly pink. I hope to see many more next year.
Achillea millefolia, Island pink yarrow. But look over there…!
https://www.ediblewildfood.com/fireweed.aspx
What becomes a June meadow more than a pink petticoat of fireweed?
They looked like lupines from the road; and I clocked them in Lopez Canyon last year, June 2019, where they — blush — stood out. This year I learned they aren’t lupines, they’re fireweed! A welcome and needful pioneer species for meadows and watercourses recovering from fire. They grow worldwide, but these are our locally adapted variety. A year ago there were only two or three:
In bright sun they are hot pink, and disappear into a haze, very tough to photograph. So I’d go into the shade to snap a shot, and the petals suddenly darken up to purpley-fuchsia. But they’re really pink!
Chamerion angustifolium ssp. circumvagum
This June our little hick meadow in the Sticks finally got Kay Thompson’s memo. Shouldn’t you, Patient Reader? Think Pink!
The Valley Village View 