Yellow is commonly associated with such things as: sunshine, happiness, warmth, lemons, bananas, taxis, caution, cowardice, aging, jaundice, biliousness, urine, and the 3rd chakra (stomach: power centre). But who cares? Today it merely serves as a vehicle for some images I recently acquired. So fill up your travel cup with some freshly squeezed lemonade, put on your yellow-tinted sunglasses (good for hunting, apparently), and let's see if we can hail a cab.
This Vancouver cabbie's pink turban goes very nicely with the big yellow taxi, I think.
This unusual dwelling in Seattle really caught my fancy with its minimalist approach to architecture. The red tile roof and bright green grass show off the yellow to its best (?) advantage. I might do a little something different with the interior window-treatment, though.
Another example of red and green against a bright (not to say acid) yellow background. Seems to be a trend in that particular Seattle neighbourhood.
Further along the wall down this Seattle alley was an interesting configuration of wire, crowned with a magic ball that was good at capturing images for its own nefarious purposes.
These flowers look similar to the ones in the Seattle alley but were found growing along a ditch in my little Maritmes village back in Canada. Hands up those who see the bug! No, it's not to the left of the picture, it's on the right. And it's pink. Again with the pink and yellow. Even nature thinks they go well together.
And who could ignore the brilliant yellow dandelions that run rampant in the countryside. They are colourfully termed "pisse-en-lit" in French (at least in Quebec), translating to "peepee in the bed" in polite Englislh. They are the bane of my mother's existence. If they dare to litter her lawn she extricates them with a vengeance, along with other sharp, pointy tools.
She particularly hates them if they happen to progess to this state when she's not looking, thus preparing to spread their yellow glory ever wider in years to come. Anyone have a good dandelion wine recipe? Or is "good dandelion wine" an oxymoron?
After a few jars of that dandelion wine, you should all be ready to get your tie-dye out and sing along: