Green is a neglected color in my garden. I walked the garden yesterday morning, and thought about green. There's just a tiny bit of lawn...
...which only appears lushly extravagantly green when it hasn't been mowed for several weeks. Emerald isn't natural to California. Our grassy hills are tawny most of the year. Shrub and trees tend to be a deep somber green, because the climate is so sunny--foliage must stand up to constant bright heat and do so on little water. Leaves must be tough.
When we were kids, we drew trees with a green crayon, and colored all the grass green--but so many trees and shrubs are not solid, uniform green. Magnolia grandiflora shows considerable bronze via the backs of its leaves.
I discovered surprising beauty in the neighbor's Raphiolepsis, which is awkwardly pruned into cubes--but look at the beautiful variety of foliage colors:
I have a great weakness for foliage that isn't green. Silver, for example:
Anything but pure green.
I'm missing out. The pure simplicity of pure green...
...is soothing and enchanting. It's so alive.
There are endless kinds of green. Silvery or pure.
Dotted and glossy...
Green like a green apple...
A green that is nearly blue.
A mix of mid and light.
Green that varies on the same plant.
Accented by colored stems.
Plain green is straightforward and honest.
I overdo it with the wild variegation.
Plain green isn't really so plain.
It can create mysterious black shadows.
It can sparkle.
Alright, I'm convinced. Green is good.
After my garden walk, I went back into the house, to discover that in my long absence, the puppies had been having their own meditation about green. Again!