The curtains and the quilt I made, the backpack I haul my computer brain in, and even the candle someone gave me years ago all echo that pale green of early spring. The view out the windows is just starting to catch up with the view before the windows. We’re just on the cusp of quick-silver change, the kind that turns window into something on the verge and very verdant. It’s one of my favorite times of year, especially how — in just the span of a week or so — the hills around our home go from black and white to scribbled green.
I love this color beyond its obvious symbolism as the talisman of new beginnings; pale green is exceedingly calm (is that why so many hospital walls are painted bad variations of it?). It has the potential to be both cheery and in-depth, to lighten us up and take us deeper. It holds light at a different tilt than gold or yellow but still with great vibrancy. It looks fantastic coupled with pale, bright blue or even with the darkening night sky.
As I write this post, I realize I’m not the only one mesmerized by the light of light green. On my itunes (KCMG, my personal all-Caryn, all-the-time radio station), I realize folksinger Lui Collins is currently singing, “Green light is all the heart believes.” And why wouldn’t the heart? After all, green light shines its song quiet and steady just as life turns from dead to alive again.