Madwoman

Every winter, green drives me crazy.

It happens to me towards the end of winter, the lust for green. The catalyst might be a Microsoft screen saver of some random tropical place or pasture in Ireland, or maybe watching White Lotus (either season, Hawaii or Sicily) with a hunger that starts visual, then turns visceral.

It hit me while looking at yet another house I am hoping to god we buy. I was standing in the yard and the day was slate-gray gloomy and in my head I greened up the long downsweep of lawn and cushioning explosion of woodland. I could taste the green. There was a partially frozen waterfall with just a shimmer of liquid silver running over rock, a soft mesmerizing babble and metallic tang. Life as promise.  

Yesterday in that yard, my heart pounding and tears in my throat, l had to restrain myself from burrowing my face in the ground. But I couldn’t freak out the realtor so I concealed my madness, and instead, asked a question about the septic system.