What COLOR are you, and WHY?
I Am Green
Not just ANY green, but deep, rich forest greens
like moss and hunter and sage and seaglass.
Doesn’t mean they can’t be a pale shade of green,
just not the sickly yellowish-green of Kelly or lime. Not new
spring green, but fully mature summer green.
When I think about green, trees and leaves
immediately come to mind. And the Smoky Mountains,
which are so green they seem almost black, hence their
name. Green makes me feel peaceful, sheltered,
adventurous. I am instinctively drawn to groves of trees
and tree-lined streets. I love parks. I love the old
streets where the ancient green giants meet overhead like
partners in a country western square dance, and
those that stand in neat formation like well-heeled soldiers.
I love to drive through canyons cradled by green pines,
and old cemeteries where the trees are decades older
than most of the people buried there.
I’m forever cutting out pictures of fairy
forests or picking up leaves to press. I
can’t resist a shiny green marble or a
piece of malachite rock. My birthstone
is emerald green. Even my ideal
dress would be forest green velvet!
These inclinations aren’t a mystery to me. I believe
they come from having spent hours and hours picnicking in
Mohican State Park in Ohio with my family when I was
growing up. Dad loved the outdoors and hiking. Nearly
every Sunday (except in winter) found us at a lake or
climbing the back trail to Old Man’s Cave (—>), always in the
company of extra family or friends. Those times are a
great anchor for me. The memories bring back all the
things that were good in my growing-up years. And safe.
But even in the city dad always managed to find his
way to a park Every payday after cashing his check he’d
take us to the newly-conceived McDonald’s for dinner.
We’d pack everything over to Lincoln Park by our house
and we’d spend the time eating mustard-catsup-pickle hamburgers,
playing on the old wooden merry-go-round, and
picking bunches of purple violets that grew wild
in the dark shade beneath the trees.
I read once that green is the color that symbolizes both serenity and spirituality. Seems appropriate to me on reflection, for those are the two things my restless heart has always sought. I suspect it was in an ancient, dark woods in a place as old as time where the sunshine had to fight its way through the dense overgrowth to the shrouded floor below
that the stage for my spiritual struggles was set. I MUST have been a Druid in a past life!
Whatever the reason, green always beckons, “Come
here and sit a spell with me, and together we’ll dream of
what yet may be!”