In Honor of something and it ain't St. Patty's Day

The green was deep, abiding; not the flashy fragile florescent green, all intensity with no substance; nor was it the deep murky undefined forest green. No drabness like olive green, no weakness like a pastel; no identity crises like sea green. This was the essence of green. It had captivating intensity, with a fortitude that promised permanence. It had the youthful energy of a Spring field of grass; it had the wisdom of a meadow that had grown for a thousand years. If there was a green, of all the thousands of shades worth wearing, one that would give power to those who donned it, it was this green; Kelly Green.