Looking round this room I can see nothing red in color – only my red handbag at my side.
It would seem that red is not a restful colour and here we have a quiet room where we relax so that thoughts may flow to our writing.
These walls are white but should they have been painted red, we would feel hot, angry, hating the sun's heat. Let's turn off that red switch.
It is not possible to describe this colour – only what it conveys to thought:
Traffic lights – three colours, but the top one is red – STOP! Or red for Danger!
A robin's breast is red. In a story we learn that he – like Icarus – flew too close to the flame and burnt his breast.
In the ballet "The Red Shoes" the ballerina covets red ballet shoes which through magic means that she has to dance forever without stopping, and she dies.
Tempted by the witch, Snow White ate part of the rosy apple and fell asleep.
Red poppies signify Remembrance of all who died in the First World War. Hosts grow in Flanders Field.
In England the pillar box and telephone kiosks are red – bad news might come from these as well as good. Sensible Spain uses yellow instead of red.
Some vegetables are red. Peppers vary in heat-strength. Some tomatoes are red. The seeds might stick or choke. It is said that they are healthier if cooked, not eaten raw.
A red rose for love, but the stems have thorns which can wound.
I am trying to remember something red when I was a child. Two things: blood on my knee when I fell off my bike; and then, aged about 4, as the proud owner of a red balloon from a party. I asked my mother,
"What would happen if I pinned this to my dress?"
"Try it and see".
I did. BANG! No more balloon, but tears in plenty.
So much for RED!!