In the dark of winter, color disappears. All is grey and brown and white and dim with hints of blue. I go out to see the sun. My camera and I go to the river to search for color, but we find little. There is my children’s clothing: bright of blues, stark black, crazy patterns out of place in the deep-sleep time of winter. Their clothing should be brown: the color of the sleeping earth. Sleep is good. Let us not wake it.