A sea of green I see, from every tree house portal, a shimmering, gleaming, billowing symphony of green, green leaves shaped like fat needles, curvaceous lakes, Christmas trees, ovals with jagged edges; Green – spindly, jutting, and flowering, bushes, weeds, plants of all sorts, stretching, poking, screaming, oblong, skinny, bulbous – all luminous green; a trimmed green lawn soaked in morning dew; a lone brown-breasted robin nibbling, lost in a sea of green; the cacophony of birds chirping, chiming, hooting, cawing, whistling, caroming from tree to tree, yup – all green; and even the occasional pink peony bursting, exploding, an exclamation point in Mother Nature’s unwavering, unrelenting, unstinting sea of … the infinite shades, a painter’s palette, lime, seafoam, jade, forest, pickle, spruce, to name a few, every view, every vantage; spiced with the smell of freshly cut green grass, seasoned with a whiff of green basil, green mint, green thyme, green sage, erupting, volcanic like … everywhere. Really, nothing but … green.