Green season.
No. Not the Packers. Not the Oakland A's. Not sports at all. The trees! The grass! The little hills out here in southern Mississippi! They stay green! For more than a week!
I lived in the foothills of Mt. Diablo for many years. It was always a beautiful sight to see the golden rolling hills turn green. It would seem to be an overnight transition. A spring or summer rain the day before would prompt the grass buds to sprout a gorgeous green across the horizon. Then, before you could blink, the green would disappear into the sunset, turning the hills into a wavy golden sea against the dropping sun.
I've been told that it has been fairly dry here in Mississippi as of late; that the green isn't "as green" as it usually is. To these California eyes, it is like the Emerald City! Brown is not mixed in or even thought of until early fall. It is a wet green, shining droplets in the sun, not unlike my golden hills back home, just a different color of gold! And it lasts and lasts and lasts!
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