peak green

once a year, on a fateful day in spring the plants around us blossom in the peak of their flush of green and plump foliage each tree hangs heavy and bright each patch of grass is thick and buzzing with bugs and each bush is brimming with adolescent buds one great tableau, wild spaces and gardens on this day hum together in various hues that coalesce into a great green sense of newness, fullness, the quintessence of spring i have observed this day for several years now waiting watching eagerly for it and it's become a personal game to find the most vibrant examples in my own thoughts and passing comments about it, i call this day peak green peak green is, in my calendar, a day, but one can imagine a moment a fleeting look down a forest path a glance at a beautiful ravine or an unobserved moment in an overgrown garden where green truly reaches its peak each day nearing the end of spring is a contender showing greener than the day before i observe the overgrowth and fullness of the trees just wondering is this it is this the peak is this the best it can be but tomorrow comes something shines a bit greener than before and the previous day is revealed to be just another notch higher in the climb the day i finally observe as peak green can only be known as a yesterday one day things turn away from deep springy green towards the hot and wiry yellow-green of summer it can be barely noticeable, perhaps a patch of browner grass or a tree that stands a bit lighter and thinner than before once i see this, then i know there it is the death of spring we didn't know how good we had it of course, peak green is the death of spring, but it also marks the beginning of the hot sweet lazy days of summer but still i am left with the lingering nostalgia for spring's potency in the promise of the greenest day of them all