Green is my favorite color. There is minty green, like the color of a blob of toothpaste, and there is electric green like the eccentric glare from a highlighter or blinding rave lights. There are deep greens found in the natural lakes of Wisconsin, greens that encapsulate that healthy glow of a sea turtle, greens that feed life on Earth through an abundance of vegetation.

 Through the jungle of all the different kinds of greens in the world, there is one that stands above the rest; grassy green. The kind of dim green that cools the fresh burn of scraped knees. The kind of green that dims the forest floor in a blanket of grass. 

Green is tranquil. Its calmness is like sitting in a vast, open field where Nature’s warm gust messes up your hair and blows through the lush, hairy grass. Green is watching the treetops rustle and the geckos trail past you in a scurry. Green is petting the moss from ancient rocks like a dogs awaiting head; its ruffled texture fuzzy on the cold stone. 

Green carries a certain type of scratchiness with it, like rubbing your fingers through a patch of grass or having it itch your skin like hay. 

Green smells like warm summer nights spent outside with a smidge of smoke carrying out from a nearby campfire. You can hear the distant chortle of a few campers nearby, the clink of their drinks, and the hum of their radio. Green is with you as you recline further into the hill behind you, the grass lush and bright under the fireflies winks. Green is tranquil in its calm presence and tastes like childhood. 

Green is my favorite color. All greens are beautiful and bring forth the sanctity of life on Earth.