Gray Again.

Although the sun did just one moment ago here in 27408 break through the clouds a small, small amount. We've got a kind of Pacific Northwest thing going on around here of late. But it's a little warmer today, and a little less gray: the light up behind all those clouds seems like it's trying slightly harder. Maybe. Every now and then we are getting shadows, and I confess that even those feel like weather: a reminder of up and down, of depth, of out and back, of a third dimension. We've been a little flat this week. And last.

Again. The sun just broke through again. There was sun through the window on my foot.

I remain an uncle. I remain more than a little stuck fiction-wise. I am not right now a very good teacher to my students. I am still wearing my robe. The JLT vinca, though, which I had given up for dead, is making a grand front yard comeback, is blooming little purple pinwheels out there in the cloud and shade and shadow. And here: even though I swore off this for a while, this little sad bent tulip we brought inside after one of the rainstorms exploded this morning, gray day or no.


We will have the sun again. Hang on and try not to worry. We'll have it so much in August that we'll all want to go on shooting sprees. And if we're good, say the fancies, we may get it this afternoon or evening. Nobody believes in the fancies any more, of course, but you've got to hand it to them: They're still coming on every day at 5, 6, and 11, and having a sad, suited go at it. Still. The dogwoods are coming in. The tulips are out there holding, holding for sun. Me too, dammit. Me too.