Perception, again

We take everything for granted until it's not there. I'm eating toast spread with Vegemite but I can't taste it's particular salty flavor, nor can I taste the corn bread, which I know is delicious. I have a heavy head cold and my taste buds have just given up. Looking out of the kitchen window whilst I fill the kettle to make a cup of tea I notice all the different shades of green on the growing plants. The subtleties are paramount, our ability to distinguish one plant from another, entremets for the eye, and, what I ask myself, if the color seeped away and the world around me could only be viewed in black and white? Of course, we have all seen absolutely beautiful black and white photographs and the classic films of cinema were shot in B & W, but reality is this color field of which we are part. Why is it that sickness makes the color and flavor of life bleed away, until all that is left is a strange back-drop, hanging there in front of the stage, like it's a hundred years old and the scene in two dimensions reflects life, but is nothing like it at all ~ flat and uninteresting. You can see that I'm not feeling very well and this has colored my perception. My senses blunt, my inspiration and energy almost to the point of depletion. I will feel better soon, I say to myself. I can hear the Magpies calling, but it is bed and sleep that beckons me.