You ever notice that no one says that trees are brown? Always green. The trees aren't green, the leaves are. Of course, the trees just look brown, so don't call them that either. Like this maple I have here. It's blue and beige-blue near twig tips, beige where leaves have fallen off, and reddish auburn at the end where bark has been worn away in the wind. It's only brown, really, when it isn't anything else. Like it's reluctant. What use is brown?

You've noticed that roses aren't red, I hope. Only a certain type at a certain type of year, and only a certain part of them then. A cliché is no use if it's also outright wrong. They also say that a rose has thorns. Wonderful. So they state the obvious. Of course beautiful things can hurt you. They wouldn't be in a position to be beautiful if they couldn't hurt you. Am I stating the obvious?

Violets aren't blue. Trust me -- why do you think they called them violets in the first place? A tiny little violet flower, and a huge set of dark green leaves, and a light green stem, that's white when it's fuzzy in early summer. A white that glows purple under a UV light, a green that turns deepest black in mourning when the flower closes for the night.

Brunettes' hair isn't brown, either. Not even the not-brown that trees are. Look at a brunette backlit by the sun as it sets on the ocean. The little ends that curl out and can only be seen when you have you can smell her hair are white and transparent. The hair that blows highest when it's windy on a beach is the color of sand and salt. The hair that's at the base of her neck when she bends to look at the sand is so dark that it looks black. The brown leaks out as you pull her hair through your fingers, like it likes you. What use is brown?