The sun has finally come out!
Well, it did. For a little while.
It's gone again. Replaced once again by this dreary gray.
Yesterday was so bright that I almost felt as if I should have had my sunglasses on while sitting in my office at home. It was the first time in several days that the big ball of yellow-orange orb called the sun came into view.
We, here in Cleveland, have been experiencing the January Gray.
That's my term for it. January Gray.
It's those days that run together into night into day again without so much notice. The sky, the ground, the air, even the lake is all the same color. Gray.
It's not the wonderful, peaceful, soft dove gray of one of my much loved cushy, cashmere sweaters, but that edgy gray that makes you think of hard, cold metal. It's dismal. It's dreary. It's downright crap.
It's difficult on days like these, even for an optimist like me, to feel perky. Or alive. Weather like this just makes me want to stay in bed. I don't feel like working out, getting dressed or leaving the house. I feel lethargic.
This past week has been like that.
When the weather takes this turn you can understand how people must feel with seasonal affective disorders. I had a friend years ago whose brother suffered from SAD. They had a large light panel in their living room that he would sit in front of daily. It imitated natural sunlight. I thought it odd at the time, but I get it now. I wish I still knew her, I need a little dosage from that sun panel.
Winter doesn't bother me. I actually quite enjoy it. When others are complaining about the cold and snow, I don't chime in. I love the cold that allows me to bundle up in my beloved turtlenecks, mittens and coats. I love putting on boots and hearing the crunch of fresh snow underfoot. I love when it's so cold you can hear the crackle of the tree branches straining under the weight of ice and snow. The chatter of icicles hanging from houses.
I love that about winter.
But these past days haven't been like that. It's not beautiful. It's not cheery. It's just cold. And dark. And gray.
What is left of our gorgeous white snow has been replaced dirty piles of ice particles. The precipitation of this winter is not of snow, but rain. It's not the rain of spring that feels fresh and clean. This is that cold rain that chills you to the bone. Not warm enough to melt everything, it leaves behind traces of what was. Piles of icy muck at the edges of driveways. Debris on the tree lawns that had been hidden is now exposed, frozen to the ground.
We've had some peculiar weather for this time of year. Quite unusual, really. Three days ago we experienced a heavy fog that lasted for days. Days. It was odd and eerie, right out of a Stephen King novel. I had taken the dogs down to the beach for a run, but once off the leash...I could hear them, but couldn't see them. It spooked me. Everything was the same color. I started to get a sense of vertigo. It was all I could do to not high tail it immediately for my car. I suppose having recently watched the movie "The Fog" made me even jumpier in this cloud. I kept waiting for some 'thing' to get me. I didn't like the feeling at all. It really creeped me out.
Plus it gave me really bad hair.
I say, "Either warm up, and stay that way, or get cold again and snow, damnit!" This in between stuff is leaving me in a foul mood. Snappy. Short.
I don't like it. Not one bit.
But yesterday morning was different. It even sounded different. There was no rain on the skylights, but the beat of a lone woodpecker in the distance. I opened my eyes and saw the faint orange glow on the horizon.
Could it be? Is that the sun? Maybe January Gray has moved on to another temporary home.
Alas, it was just a tease. A mere 5 hours of sunshine to remind me what I'm missing. This morning when I awoke I looked up to see that once again it was raining. The drops were clinging to the skylight in the early morning light. The gray had returned. January Gray. Doppler radar informs me that it's going to continue to rain with the temperatures reaching 50 by Sunday. Ugh.
Looking out my window I see the remains of the snowman next door. His head has rolled off and fallen to the ground. His body is tilting at a severe angle, his scarf frozen to the grass beside him. He obviously doesn't much like this weather either. He's not as perky as he was a week ago.
I feel like him today. We can commiserate, he and I.
I cleared my schedule. I'm not leaving the house.
I'm grabbing my laptop and heading back to bed. No real need to go out. No work that can't be done another time. I'm staying in.
It's just too yucky. Even for an optimist like me.
I'll deal with everything...another day. Just not today.
Perhaps when the sun is out once again?
One can only hope...