Such a thing as Green

There is just something about the experience of green that makes me want to take off my shoes and run across the lawn like a little girl, mouth things that aren’t edible, and that never fails to put a smile on my face. I love the way it looks in sunshine, the way it contrasts with a grey sky and the purple-blue hue of the mountains on the horizon, the way I feel when I’m wearing my bright green skirt--beautiful, joyful, hopeful. I love the feel of it between my fingers as I hold a leaf, the feel of it between my toes while I walk the long, grassy distance between campus and home--without my shoes on.

This Fall, I went to Marine Park and as I walked through the rich, green grass to my favorite tree, I met a homeless man named Shamrock. It was cold outside, but we both found ourselves with the bay, the mountains, the deciduous trees, the rocks and the grass-green. He told me that his family was from Ireland. He got so worked up about the forty shades he’d someday see on the other side of the ocean, that he started to drop a swear word here and there. It was the reflection upon a reality that will never be, as precious to him as it was. We ate my M&M’s together in silence, for a time and took in the picture painted before us.