Promenade in Purples

Regal, like dignitaries in a receiving line, they stand in their purple opulence.

Magnificent tropical beauties, the awe-inspiring Jacaranda trees full of silky flowers which hang in countless full bunches grow twenty-five to forty feet with an equal spread.

With arching branches and gracefully curved multiple trunks, they frame First Avenue, along with graceful queen palms, on both sides from Walnut to Laurel, the alphabetically named tree cross streets of my San Diego neighborhood, Bankers Hill.

In their repetition, they are stunning.

First introduced to San Diego by Kate Sessions, the “mother of Balboa Park,” this riot of rich trumpet-shaped blooms return each year between Easter and Mother’s Day, a springtime gift. Not really purple, the Jacaranda trees blend mauve, violet, and soft shades of heliotrope into luscious masses.

The hues—opposite sunshine yellow on the color wheel—delighted Claude Monet and his band of Impressionists. They found these purples—light and dark—irresistible—perfect for shadows and tree trunks painted en-plein-aire in and around Paris in the late nineteenth century. 

About these shades, Monet said,

“I have finally discovered the true color of the atmosphere. It's violet. Fresh air is violet.”

It is early May when the trumpet-shaped blooms finally fall.

All that remains is a lilac carpet of the breathtaking Jacarandas blossoms—still regal in their fall—creating luxuriant curb appeal, an invitation to step lightly into the atmosphere of summer.

*****

I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it.

Alice Walker, American novelist, short story writer, poet, and activist, b. 194