I stand on the small balcony, watching the winged birds fly across the dimly lit sky, now a tender mixture of pink hues and bright blue silks. A breeze gently settles out of the pined forest and caresses my face somberly. I blink several times, squinting at the meek line separating the last few rays of sunshine that dipped into the curves of the lush green hills looming above the small village in Sarajevo. My heart flutters, breath taken away from my chest, as I watch in silent awe the flight of the delicate white birds against the bright blue canvas. With the light, it seems as if the birds are set aglow against the blue background, almost giving them a sense of divinity and elegance, sailboats flightily speeding across the bubbling and bright seas that beckon welcomingly. It was here, I saw, that blue was beauty.

There was utter silence.
Waves rippled gently, rising as if slow, calm breaths of a sleeping child. Within a time span of only seconds, the waves then crashed against the shore, letting the small white splashes of foam fall upon my bare arms that were crossed onto my knees. I let the curtain of hair cover my face as I lowered my chin to face the wide, open sea. Fog soon fell into the area, dimming, even darkening, the brilliance of the waters that sounded its own lullaby. The ocean had always attracted me for some reason. Perhaps it was the openness of it all—the unpredictability of its waters. Perhaps it was the violent waves that crashed against the beach at times, spattering me with cold drops of water that shook me into reality. Perhaps it was for the mythology behind it—the idea of Ariel’s love enveloping her mind and body into the thin wisps of white foam that covered the beach-lines with its gentle presence. I then realized—life too was an ocean. Life too was unpredictable and strange and cold and ever-changing. In any case, however, life had to continue. One must embrace the change, or face the crushing tidal waves that swept over unsuspecting players. I realized I had to continue to keep on forwards, no matter the fog that covered the dark and unsuspecting waters. It was here, I saw, that blue was power.

We whispered loudly, laughing at intervals and shrieking at others. There was four of us on the mud path, kicking the brown snow at each other in contempt as we aimlessly walked down the sleeping neighborhood. Our path was only lit by the shining moon that watched us in dire anxiousness, shedding light only at the center of the wide road, revealing small black pebbles that probed the thin soles of our shoes. As we began to run upwards, white flakes quickly began to shower and fall upon our frozen cheeks that had reddened with the time spent outside. The night’s shadows were not pitch dark as before; they were a royal blue, lightened by the appearance of several grey clouds and white light that poured from the bountiful moon, playfully following us into the dark. I saw him, my brother, turn around, gaping at the dark figure that stood in the background with a rigid bulky posture. We looked, fearfully shuddering, and walked faster to return to our homes standing at the top of the hill. As we hastened, the figure too began walking alongside our strides, instilling a deep chill that climbed upwards into our spines. I heard my brother fall into a deep yell and the four of us began to sprint, slipping at times, and rode away from the bright light into the cover of darkness. It was here, I saw, that blue was fear.

In every event, there it was: blue. Blue was no longer a color, a simple description of physical imagery or stimulus—it was a symbolic reference to emotion; love, fear, beauty. Blue was a description of the soul, the cover of darkness, leaking out the heart’s deepest darkest secrets into the open for others to view. Blue was the color of honesty and truth, allowing for both the absorption of the crescent’s light, or for the freedom of young birds, searching for their true homes and destinations. Blue was hope for a better shore and for the resistance to crashing waves and salty seas. In short, blue was the color of life, both the source of creation and destruction, life and death, strength and weakness.