“It’s all red, orange and yellow now. Soon it will be just bare trees, only branches and no leaves.”
I imagine missing the colours of green. Of course, right now we’re shoved with green once we step out of our houses, but I imagine being in a country where trees aren’t always green. Here in Malaysia, no matter what time of the year, trees are always filled with lush green leaves. We don’t have the four seasons – spring, summer, autumn and winter like the rest of the world, but we have something like an eternal summer, occasionally with lots and lots of rainfall. Hence, hot and humid.
Even so, we have rows of greenery along our highways, the streets, around schools and homes. Our leaves do fall, like all other trees, but the constant hue of green remains throughout the year, only once in awhile do leaves turn brown – wilting as they age or due to lack of nutrients. I must say, it is marvelous and amazing to see the leaves change along with the seasons, but to me, green is such an appealing colour, and it’s a colour that connects with me the most.
Green was the colour of my favourite blanket as a kid (but now faded into some shade of ugly dirty brownish-yellow). Green is my mother’s favourite colour. Green is the colour of the notebook given to me by my favourite primary school teacher. Green is the colour of the grass I used to tread over barefoot when playing football with my brothers. Green is the colour of the four leaved clovers that my best friend would used to search and pick for me. Though I wouldn’t say green is my favourite colour, green was everything precious to me.
Though the blue skies decorated with white puffy clouds and the oceans with their crashing waves are too part of nature, along with the beautiful sunrises and sunsets, as well as the flowers that pave the ground in bright colours; green is the colour that is everywhere, green is the symbol of nature. New leaves are green – the appearance of green is new life, nature’s way of announcing the arrival of spring. And so, even though the colours of autumn are a wonder, the colour of green brings a sense of life. That there is still chlorophyll in the plants and they’re inhaling, breathing in the carbon dioxide under the (scorching) sun.
I’d like to see myself be like the colours of the trees of Malaysia – never changing, ever radiant, yet bringing a sense of hope in each new day, and beautifying others’ dull grey lives. That even when there are so many terrible things going on in this country, or even as the whole world plunges into horrifying disasters and the irrational, sickening actions of mankind begin to make their mark, I can remember that the green of nature is still there. Until it is gone, then we will know that life too is over.
For as long as I can see that trees are green, I feel like there is still hope left.