Everyone in my family has blue eyes. Blue like the ocean, an array of different shades and tints. My sister’s eyes are a shade of sapphire, deep and indulging to look at. My dad’s eyes are a lighter hue of blue, a color often seen on a bright, cloudless day spread across the sky. My mom has a mixture of various shades of blue that swirl together creating the unique iris that reflects off her eye like the eye of a hurricane. Even my dog has a creamy tint of blue that color her piercing eyes, on a glistening winter day her eyes stand out against the snow, mesmerizing and impossible not to get lost in.
My eyes on the other hand are not like the desirable beauty of blue. My eyes are a unique blend of green and auburn swirling together to create the uncommon color of hazel. On stormy days, when the weather is unsettling my eyes turn completely brown, evading any evidence that green was once there. During the warm summer months my eyes remain a shade of emerald, endless and intriguing, as the iridescent color of a green apple. My eyes have a mind of their own, shifting and altering like the changing of seasons. If I want to have green eyes for the day, a green outfit would suffice. For the most part I have no choice as to what color my eyes choose to be. It is a mystery I try to solve each and every day.