A red is red because it’s red, but it’s only this particular red because of what it’s surrounded by and what it’s made of. Redness, the fur that it colors, the shadows growing out of it, the greys of the cat that kneads as she closes her eyes and sinks into it – all of this makes up a constellation. These constellations are what we see when we observe this or that red here now. (Your room is full of them.) And just like the ones in the sky – Orion the hunter, Boötes the herdsman – they have stories encrusted in them, glowing out from them, helping us to recognize them. I know your mom sings you lullabies at night – no, I don’t particularly want to read Goodnight Moon again, when your dad’s home he can do that for you – but I can’t really sing and so what I’m going to do instead is tell you the stories of some of these color-constellations. (These are the perks of having a chromastronomer as an aunt. Am I right?) So lay down and shhh and snuggle up. I’ll start with that red over there. Do you see it? Are you sure? Ok, now close your eyes, and listen.