Sunday, August 1, 2011. From the City of black and white to a land of lush color. This red hanging on a tree was a hue that was not the blood red that would make a statement in New York, or the pinkish tone favored by the Barbie set. But here it was, hanging in profusion, bright, insistent, awake. It was right for the forest, belonging here in proximity to the ocean, showy. What happens when it is moved? Does it retain its pride of place, and in what context? Regional. Is it an example of what belongs where it is?
