hyacinthine

...a frantic homing seaplane was flying soundlessly, like a bird with long shoes, into a patch of hyacinthine sky in the west...

- Malcolm Lowry, October Ferry to Gabriola

"Gradually, however, as the performance went on, their vaguely human forms detached themselves languidly one after the other from the depths of the night which they embroidered, and, raising themselves toward the light, allowed their half-naked bodies to emerge into the chiaroscuro of the surface where their gleaming faces appeared behind the playful, frothy undulations of their ostrich-feather fans, beneath their hyacinthine, pearl-studded headdresses which seemed to bend with the motion of the waves."
--The Guermantes Way by Marcel Proust, translated by C.K. Scott Moncrieff and Terence Kilmartin, Revised by D.J. Enright, p 44 of the Modern Library paperback edition