There was a “Forest Green” crayon in every single box of Crayolas I had as a child. I was essentially a city kid so, until I became an adult, that crayon was just about all I knew of forests. Sure, there were one or two, maybe even as many as five, acres of “woods” we kids explored, but a forest? No clue.
Nowadays, the idea that all the greens of a forest — any forest — could be collapsed into a single color seems almost heretical to me. There are so many greens in just a single forest, and even more greens in other forests. There are, in fact, countless shades of forest green.
When New Mexico’s forests partially reopened last month, I immediately headed up to the highest reaches of the Sandia mountains, which were quite damp. The evidence of copious moisture included the fallen log below, with all of its moss-filled cracks.
Earlier in the month, I’d visited Humboldt Redwoods State Park in northern California, where a bracken fern, backlit by the late afternoon sun, showed off completely different shades of green.
And then there was my visit last week to one of my favorite places, the East Fork of the Jemez, where even more shades of green made appearances. They were accompanied by fog, which we don’t see very often in New Mexico. It was downright magical.
The image of redwood sorrel below, from another redwood forest in northern California, is what inspired me to write this post in the first place. I continue to marvel not only at all the different greens within the frame of this photo, but the wide variety of patterns on the leaves as well.
Wishing you an excellent week ahead. May it be filled with infinite shades of green.
With me it was the green M&M's, the only color I would eat, which delighted my brother and sister. My mother knew I loved the woods/forests which we hardly ever saw so she understand my obsession with green M&M's.
I'll take all the greens you can muster!