How fitting that I start the day looking out at the rain and grays of the Puget Sound. Seattle is barely visible to the East.
The grays match my mourning mood. The Mueller report is being released today. Even CNN showed a little humor this morning in the redacted subject line of their daily email.
As I sit with my morning coffee observing the ferries on their hourly to and fro, I am once again amazed at how much fascination I have with these shades of gray. When I first wake up, there is this undifferentiated gray curtain hanging over the water.
Staring and eyes roaming, I see that there are clouds in the sky. Their outlines a bit blurred but they are there. The gray of the water is different from the gray of the clouds. And there are multi-gray ripples as the light wind roams the water’s surface. The gray curtain slowly decomposes into separate objects.
Looking down, not out, color springs to the fore. Yay, the azaleas are starting to bloom. The green of the hedges and trees start to shine through the dismal gray. There is color here. Slowly the Japanese maple tree maroon red distinguishes itself from the greens. There are blossoms on our lonely Japanese cherry tree. That is a miracle. Evidently the deer can’t reach that high.
My mind wanders back to the days coming events. Will the Mueller report shed light on the dangers of our incompetent government or will the LGBTQ rainbow colored redactions continue to hide the blindingly obvious?
Be. Here. Now.
One Day at a Time.
One Step at a Time.
Moving. Flowing. Flowering.
I refocus to bring myself back to the grays in front of me. I slow my mind. I focus on the sounds of the grays. Pitter pitter pitter as the water drops bounce off our plastic table on the deck. A dull roar comes from the roof as the rain intensifies. A crow caws. The low throat-ed growl of the Victoria Clipper rumbles across Elliot Bay.
Here comes the ferry. I hear it before I can see it.
The rich smell of my Nespresso coffee breaks my reverie. Time for a sip of the bitter nectar of awakening.
Who knew there was so much “color” in the mourning rain?