Slice 86 of 365
(FYI I was perfectly sober when I wrote this…)
Tis a cloudy day in the high desert of AZ where the Yavapai Indians used to roam. The sky is gray, the clouds look painted on the horizon and rain spits like a toddler making raspberries at her mom that the uncle shouldn’t have taught her.
The wind blows slowly, whirling around you in a soft, grandmotherly embrace until suddenly the gust blows in like the grade school bully chasing you down on the playground and sitting on your chest while everybody watches and does nothing.
The mountains stay muted in the blacks, grays and whites of the clouds. Their peaks peeking through when the bully wind lets them. The sun, frail today, pokes through the occasional storm cloud reminding the blowhard who is really boss. The wind laughs, today and probably tomorrow it will continue to win.
The gray aurora over the landscape resonates with lights and darks, with dozens of different shades of whites, blacks and grays. Therefore the grayness of the day is not quite so. The darkness of the day may seem bleak to those seeing only dark clouds, cooler temperatures and wind wrestling with the trees.
The greater glory though is the smaller things that go unnoticed. What is the wind saying? Do you get to see the trees dance every day? How different do the mountains look in this light? How much do you appreciate that little patch of blue sky where streams of sunlight are escaping through a rip in a rain cloud? Can you smell the rain? Feel the moisture in the air?
It may look gray, bleak, dark and threatening but what it brings is life giving water.
Just take it in. Stand there, look, feel, smell. Breathe in, close your eyes, let nature wash over you. Relax and let it just speak to you for a few seconds.
You will smile.