It is a gray day, the sky absent of color—a 10-percent gray screen, the kind that makes a bland one-color book printed on cheap paper look even duller because by smudging the crisp edges of black type, not a good strong 80-percent sky, promising rolling thunder and a cleansing rain (then, we don’t need more rain), merely an erasure of the blue, a cloud cover so extensive that it seems to envelop the entire earth in a sky so motionless that the clouds just sit upon the land, as dull, worn sheets cover a bed, though even if there were wind it could not be detected in the movement of clouds, for they are really one, one vast and uniform cloud, with no edges, no beginning, no ending, no wrinkles (the sheet stretched taut) the movement of which the eye could follow.
We have had many of these days, it seems, in the past two months, precious few days of clarity, of high, bright azure following the storm but plenty of these glowering, depressing days, long, drab days that leech life out of the soul, sap hope out of the spirit, cover the mind with a blanket not of comforting warmth but of muffling lethargy, as though the dull atmosphere seeps in through the nose and ears and neutralizes the neurons, making them incapable of firing or, like a resistor, disrupts the flashes so they do not leap across synapses but merely sputter like a wick that is nearly spent, leaving the mind barely capable of functioning, the voice muted by the lack of words, and the body uncertain of the will to rouse itself and move through the humid, dreary, still, seemingly everlasting grayness.
Words © 2011 AtHome Pilgrim.
All Rights Reserved.
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Comments
Makes the mind dull. / R
A few days back I went outside just before leaving for work. There was this glow, almost vibrating light coming into the windows. It was sunrise and the sky was covered in black, the light trying to pierce through, and I wondered if we would have thunderstorms like the night before, when booming thunder and the pattern of crisscrossing lightning woke me. I love that particular grey, almost black.
But what you describe, bah!
Truly hope you get blue skies soon.
toritto: Yup.
designanator: Let's hope we're not in for a bumpy one. But let's follow Margot Channing's good advice, and fasten our seatbelts just in case.
Candace: Nah, not the far, far north. Winter sucks even worse.
vanessa: The drama of a storm versus the dreariness of blah. At least storms are forthright: boom, then get it over with. Well, I'm sure we'll have blue skies some day! I think.
Lea: I like that--"suppressed weather." Thanks for enjoying it, even if it's blah.
diana: Whenever you want to remember what moisture was, just stop on by.
anna: "What's that funny yellow circle in the sky, mum?" I can see how the world would stop when it made it's unlikely appearance. I'm with you on enjoying the shapes of clouds. Can't say I've looked at them from both sides, but . . .
mrc: Thank you!
Jeff: I guess I thought I was paid by the word, not the sentence. ;)
scupper: Not sure the mind is doing much good, though.
Scarlett: Actually, we were treated to a magnificent sunset at the end of the day, when a break in the cloud sheet appeared. Just in time. That'll get me through for a bit. Enjoy your colour!