March is synonymous with St Patrick’s Day and the Wearing O’ the Green with everybody claiming to be Irish. Limericks and Leprechauns abound around every corner. It’s a holiday to enjoy and relish (green). In the spirit of things, this made me start to think of things that are green in town and I am depending upon the luck o’ the Irish to get this done. Maybe I’ll get some inspiration from The Quiet Man, Kermit the Frog, and the Boston Celtics?
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I traverse the town fixed upon things that offer a celebration of the holiday. I wind up at Wright’s Pond and view its mellow aqua-green tinge and the lily pads that seem to be floating shamrocks as well. I spy the blink of an eye budding of tiny-bud leaf embryos that will soon be grown and fill the trees with green. I view the Flagpole on the Green and admire the green, red, and yellow bushes that keep the pole company. In the Spring and Summer the Green will open itself to vendors of tag sales and floral arrangement carts. In the spirit of it all I go to Case Library and take out a copy of “How Green Was my Valley”. I spy the watercolor and art classes at the Community Center and mellow myself in the blending, amalgamating mix of green paint and penciled green leaves. I pass by the Floral Arrangement class and see animated students and instructors loving their floral creations embracing them with tender hands and matching the flowers that want to be next to each other. I spy and stand among the great green trees of forestry and am amazed at their size and stoic nature. Passing by Tracy School I see the concrete green flower pots at the edge of the front door that beautifully mellow into the pink of the school. I sometimes see the players in the gym competing for Pickleball honors but I know that doesn’t have anything to do with green. The playground in the back parking lot spins alive with the childrens’ joy and exuberance of life playing games on a carpet of green. I see a Country Fair and Fireman’s Carnival that offer comfort to those that walk around all over the place free of pavement. I stand in stillness looking at my horses that recline on the green grass under the shade of trees and discuss Congressional matters. I see a green tractor stoically asleep for the winter hidden away until the coming dew of dawn of Spring resurrects them once more in the field of dreams. And lastly, I stand upon the Green in silence at the flowered and wreathed monument honoring volunteer firefighters who are the minutemen and minutewomen of a Town’s safety.