If I were musically inclined I would have certainly started singing Yellow; or woven words together like Sting about The Fields of Gold. Or like the author of A Sea of Poppies written a historical saga about love, money and opium.
But being a poor wordsmith, I could only take my camera out and try to capture the hillsides covered with yellow sunflowers.
In November when the cool breeze begins to blow, the green hills turn golden as the Mexican sunflowers blossom. During this period, if you travel from Chiang Mai to Mae Hong Son by Highway 108, you will be fascinated by a sea of golden Mexican sunflowers blooming along both sides of the road over the rolling hills for miles.
Unfortunately it was unseasonably hot this year, and the sunflowers were barely there. But to my city dwellers eyes, the little which was there was a marvel to behold.There were green fields, blue skies, smooth roads ahead and rolling hills behind and around me. The bees were buzzing and I had I could only marvel at the beauty all around me.
But no I couldn’t sing Yellow.