I can't say that title without thinking about Aerosmith. Irregardless, after 29 years I have finally found an answer to the ever-ridiculous question, "what is your favorite color?" Unless you say black, no one cares. Although no one cares, I was walking today under a canopy of blossoming spring trees, and I finally identified my favorite color. It is the bright, translucent spring-green that blankets the greyish-white branches of the trees, creating a beautiful forest out of the parks in Manhattan. In the winter, everything is grey. The grey sidewalks become a familiar sight, head down with each rapid step to slice through the wind that whips fiercely between stone cold silver buildings. The leaves are lost like fallen soldiers in the fall months, leaving the trees naked and exposed in their shades of grey. The sky is grey. The clouds are grey. People become grey. I wonder if Adam Duritz gained his inspiration from a New York winter for so many of his lyrics... grey guitar and play... something about the shades of grey...
Perhaps that is why this vibrant green lights up my soul each time I step outside. It's the end of May, and spring is just now settling in on New York. The initial blossoms have come and gone, and in their wake they bestowed a gorgeous spectrum of green that symbolizes life, renewal and change.
I have always loved trees. I grew up on 5 acres of pecan trees, free to roam with open space around me and my imagination gushing forth in the sticky Texas summers, fireflies dancing at dusk. As I've gotten older, they have become so symbolic of life. In the wintertime they look dead, barren. But they always bloom, and their buds bring hope and beauty.
I have never endured a winter comparable to my first winter in New York. The cold set in around late October and didn't relent for seven months. Spring brings a unique and intense energy to New York City. People have been couped up in their shoebox Manhattan apartments for over 200 days. When the Lady sunshine finally makes her grand debut, New Yorkers literally gush onto the streets, sitting out on sidewalk cafes and lying in the green grass of the many parks of the city, basking in the rich sunshine on any patch of earth on which they can bask.Spring, I am glad you're here. It's been a while since I've seen you, and I've never experienced your splendor quite like this. Continue to bring hope to my spirit as you show me how in time, all things become new, once again.
Somehow, Ashley, your blog popped up while viewing Pinterest while deciding that maybe I would start a fake blog. I need a fake blog so I can post pics to it that I want to post to Pinterest ... if that even makes since!! Anyway, I thought while I was in your neighborhood, I'd read a post I'd missed. Truth be told, I've probably missed a lot of them inadvertently. Anyway, just wanted you to know that when I was 29, I decided that green was DEFINITELY my favorite color and I've never wavered from that ever-solid answer to the ever-ridiculous question, which I always thought was a perfectly-acceptable question. After all, there are so many shades and hues to choose from and I know there's even a branch of psychology that analyzes why someone picks a certain color out of the spectrum. That's really the interesting question ... why? Why do we gravitate toward one and shun the other. For example, as much as I adore the blue, blue sky in any shade, I just don't enjoy that color very much. Well, I admit ... I do make an exception for true-blue eyes which, for me, convey a certain trustworthiness since I belong to a large family of predominantly blue-eyed folks. And it's probably because my mother loves her own blue eyes so much that she always bought me blue clothes as a kid and teen. Do you want to know why? My theory is that my eyes were green, but looked blue when I wore blue clothes. Deep down, Mom most likely wanted me to fit in better with our blue-eyed clan, even though I liked my green eyes even more than theirs. One day in high school, I looked in my closet and realized that every single piece of clothing she'd bought me was BLUE. Being a typical teenager, I passive-aggressively refused to ever wear blue again. And on those occasions I have bought blue, people will literally swear to me that my (rare) green eyes are actually blue!!! They really do. So you may never see me in blue as I want to be true to my roots. My green, green "eyes" that sync with glorious grass and luscious leaves ... but not the skies. No, not MY eyes.
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