Good day to be a duck

It’s one of those perfect, drizzly grey days… you know the ones that make you want to curl up in a blanket and watch movies all afternoon with a cup of hot chocolate?

It’s not exactly raining though…more of “not quite enough for an umbrella” precipitation.  It’s that dreamy in-between, misting just enough to feel as if you are strolling through clouds. It’s the kind of weather that calls to my Pacific Northwest soul to take a walk and relish in the one-dimensional flatness of muted daylight.

It makes me want to act like a kid… galoshes and raincoat-clad, splashing through puddles.


(I would do this, but no one else would appreciate my dulcet tones.)

But the hovering clouds tone down my usual frenetic energy. It’s a day with the volume on mute.  A day for mellow and calm. The monochromatic filter of mist makes it difficult to tell if it’s morning or evening, bestowing a surreal outside-of-time feel to the day.  It’s weather for pausing and for waiting.  Waiting for the leaves to change. Waiting on thinking too much.  Waiting for the clouds to clear. Waiting on making decisions.  Waiting for the sun to return.

It really is my favorite kind of rain… a quiet, grey mist.

It’s a perfect transition day… reminding me that summer is over and that the seasons always change, even if I don’t want them to.

In a city with 300+ days of sunshine, it’s good to have a pause from time to time.

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