When I was little, one of the Crayola colors that I never used was Spring Green. That one (along with Carnation Pink) always seemed washed out, like there wasn't enough pigment in it. It wasn't even that it was pale; Periwinkle is one of my favorites. It was like it was mostly clear. You just couldn't get good color out of it.
Besides, it's a dumb name for a color anyway. Why not "leaf green" or "grass green"? That would at least make sense.
Well, the house we bought a few years ago (first house! yey!) has a huge back porch that looks out over our wooded lawn. We hung our hammock-chairs on the porch, and this time of year it's just glorious to sit and watch the birds and squirrels and such. It's best in the late afternoon, when it's warm-but-not-hot-anymore, and the sun is still high but starting to go down.
And sitting in the hammock chair and watching the yard, I discovered the glory that is Spring Green.
There's usually a slight breeze - just enough to set the wind chimes going and add some movement to the air around me. Sometimes I can hear it up in the tops of the trees, where it gets going a bit more.
The sunlight comes through the leaves of those trees, bathing the entire yard in a warm green glow. (I bet you thought green was a cool color, didn't you? take THAT, Cover Girl!) And that's what spring green is - that living, nearly liquid halo of new things opening their eyes and taking that first breath.
Maybe the problem is that Crayola just stretched too far. There's only so much that you can accomplish with wax, after all.
Image thanks to http://www.jeansbrush.com/