Eyes and Windows

Eyes truly are windows to something deeper--personality, emotions, the soul if you prefer. Color ranges widely, of course, but I've found that within the color groups (blue, green, brown, etc.) no shade is precisely like another. Visit an art supply store and rest easy knowing that the tube of ceylon blue acrylic paint you buy there will be the exact same hue as a tube of ceylon blue you buy at another store. Eye color is just as unique as the DNA that dictates it.
I went to high school with a girl whose eyes were the color of a brand-new baby spring leaf and glowed like sunlight filtering through chlorophyll. I have never seen another pair of eyes like hers. A boy I met on a church group trip claimed dark-chocolate eyes, darker than milk chocolate but just short of black. What made them particularly usual was that he was quite the light-haired, fair-skinned type otherwise. Having been adopted, he had no way of figuring out how that combination came about. Blogdaddy's eyes are like blue ore, with flecks of silver reflecting the light at odd angles, much like an unpolished piece of quartz. The intensity of his personality, his restlessness, the constant thought, and never-ending movement of his body makes those flecks glint and shine. It scares me to think of what it would mean if his eyes ever stopped sparking. The Guardian's eyes change color, hopping back and forth from green to blue, sometimes several times in a day. A few rare times, however, an evil shade of dark orange spreads outward from his pupils. I'm not kidding--I've seen it.
My favorite pair of eyes are the color of deep clover honey when it's been sitting in the jar for a while and is close to crystallization. When he looks at me they warm, like a soft light shone through the bottom of the honey jar. They darken when he's worried about something, or in a bad mood. From a distance they seem to be a simple brown--only up close do they show their true hue.
I love waking up to those honey eyes.